


The Old Way

by Tricia_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - The French Mistake, Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, Fluff and Smut, Hell, Purgatory, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:19:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tricia_Winchester/pseuds/Tricia_Winchester
Summary: You(the Reader) have been taken by Faeries and held as a prisoner. You are set on a long journey thru various worlds and you end up eventually in the Supernatural universe where you run into the Winchesters and figure out that Dean has been the destination.





	1. Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I'm just getting this going, this will be short at first but will get much longer once I edit and add. This is based on a dream I had and its my first semi published fan fiction :)

I landed heavy on my back, spit out by the portal haphazardly. This much sunlight after endless twilight was blinding, it streamed around the trees making the forest look like bars of a prison. I'd hardly caught my breath after having the wind knocked out of me when I launched myself into a run."Need to keep moving, he's still coming” I gritted to myself, one hand thrown up to lazily block part of the sun in my eyes. Color exploded around me, too concentrated and real, it made me nauseous after the washed out colors I had adapted to.  
My muscles protested, I needed to rest, to eat. The world had taken on a hazy focus of too green, my heartbeat echoed in my ears, the beat of blood twitching away in my eye from the pressure. My other hand clenched a rough blade hard enough to whiten knuckles and split skin and I forced my legs to pump on. Branches slapped my face but my feet kept finding purchase as they carried me with protest. It seemed like there was nothing but this forest and this endless fucking daylight that made me feel too exposed. There was no subtlety to my running anymore, none of the stealth I'd grown proud of, at this point I was crashing thru the vegetation like an animal. I ran until the sun finally went down and I could no longer even see where I was going. Finally I had limped down to a non graceful shuffle and finally stopped, realizing that there was a stream up ahead I could drink from. Collapsing into a heap by the side of the stream, I fell hard not even getting a drink before I pass out.  
THE BUNKER-  
"Whats up Cass?" Dean answered his phone cavalierly. He hoped it was a case as him and Sam had started getting on each other’s nerves. It wasn't Sam's fault, Dean knew he'd been almost jumpy, crawling the walls for some reason. The agitation had been making him snap at Sam. Even now his fingers drummed Metallica against the face of the library table.  
"Dean, there's been a ripple in the portal to Purgatory." Cass said.  
"Impossible Brochaco, that road’s only one way." Dean replied.  
"Well its happened, anyone with alleviated senses would have felt it. It makes no sense, the only thing that should be able to get thru the portal is a human soul". Cass said.  
"And they're fresh out of those" Dean interrupted.  
"Precisely." Cass said.  
"So me and Sam get to go wander around one of the largest nature reserves looking for a Houdini monster?" Dean joked.  
"I think that would be wise Dean." Cass deadpanned.  
“Ok we’re on it” With that Dean ended the call, excited to get out of the Bunker. He launched himself up, leaving the dead end internet search still open.  
“Sammy we caught a case” he announced entering the kitchen where his brother was pouring himself a coffee.  
“Where?” Sam asked.  
“The land of monsters and crab-Maine. At least its summer so we won’t freeze our asses off.” Dean said as he poured his own cup of coffee, his earlier petulism eradicated.  
“Not really a vacation destination Dean. Maine still sucks in the summer. Please tell me it’s not clowns, that would be too cliché for even us.” Sam drawled, covering his obvious discomfort with the idea even though he'd thought he'd outgrown such things.  
“Aww SAMMY- We all floooaaatt dooowwwn heerrree.” Dean drew it out in his best impression of Pennywise to get under Sam’s skin.  
“Hilarious, what’s the case? “ Sam replied slightly groggy, rubbing his face with his hand.  
“Come on that was golden... Fine party pooper-Somebodies popped the top on Purgatory and Cass wants us to put the Jack back in the box.” Dean searched the fridge for decent leftovers for breakfast before discarding the idea entirely. Fuck it they could eat on the road.  
“Ok where do we start?” Sam yawned, picking up his phone to scroll thru the contents. Dean poked at Sams screen antagonistically, messing up whatever Sam had been looking at, causing Sam to sigh expectantly.  
“I’ll update you in the car, get your shit and meet me in 10.” Stealing a piece of Sam's toast off his plate, Dean left him to his own devices.  
LATER IN THE IMPALA-  
“Ok what did Cass say? Is it another spell like what brought Eleanor here?” Sam queried, sipping his now to go coffee.  
“He doesn’t know- he thinks that’s the most likely, considering people aren’t exactly lining up to get into Purgatory like its Studio 54.” Dean laid on the gas, that same sense of urgency driving him, fingers now tapping the wheel slightly out of time with the music, his tempo about 3 times too fast.  
“Yeah but now that Eleanor’s dead wouldn’t that make the spell impossible? “ Sam asked. He eyed his brother, currently emanating an excess of nervous energy. He was switching him to decaf at the next stop.  
“Well she got here didn’t she?” Dean countered.  
“Yeah but everyone who witnessed it was killed, right? So short of Rowena and the Book of the Damned who has that kind of mojo?” Sam cracked his laptop open to start that very search.  
“Yeah and I don’t see Mommy Dearest wanting to open that particular Pandora ’s Box. “ Dean said.  
“Well how are we going to get anything wandering around what is literally called the 100 mile wilderness? That too much ground to cover for even us.” Sam studied the map he'd pulled up dubiously.  
“I know where the exit sign is Sam. I came out of ground zero too. I figured we could start there and see what we can see.” Dean said.  
100 MILE WILDERNESS-  
I woke up in a pile of limbs as the sun was coming up. Everything hurt, muscles stretched and over abused. Christ I was thirsty. I crawled over to the stream scooping up handfuls of water shoving them into my mouth. When I was finally full, I filled my flask to carry some with me. I got up and started off again. I wonder where I am this time; I hope this universe has people. And some sort of civilization. And fucking cheeseburgers.  
XIAMEN, CHINA- A FEW YEARS EARLIER  
I wandered slapdash outside my hotel trying to get a better signal on my phone, holding the damn thing above my head like Simba. My parents had been calling me nonstop and it kept cutting out the second I picked up. I wandered closer to the beach hoping that would help as everything else wasn’t working. Finally the call back to Mom went thru, as I noticed I was losing daylight.  
“MOM? “ I said loudly, hoping this time it wouldnt cut out.  
“ Where are you? Are you in the hotel?” Her tinny voice echoed.  
“No I came outside because the service was shitty, what’s up? It’s got to be like early as shit there” I said.  
“We have news. Are you sitting down?”, she asked.  
“No, should I be? If this is about extending my trip there’s no way...” I said.  
“It’s not about extending your trip. How soon do you think you can get a flight home?” She cut in before I could finish.  
“Why?” I asked, baffled, that calm flat voice startled me.  
“It’s your brother. Somethings happened.” she said.  
“What???? What happened??” That clammy terrible feeling was icing the area around my heart as I strained to hear.  
“It was a car accident, I’m so sorry to tell you this way but we didn’t know what else to do.” she said emotionless.  
“Is he ok? What hospital is he in? What are the doctors saying?? “ I rattled off, frozen.  
“He’s not going to make it. You need to get home.” she said. The last part started to cut out until the call dropped entirely, leaving me to staring at the phone uncomprehendingly before my grip cracked the screen and I launched the thing into the air. I knew I'd never make it home in time, I could feel the seconds slipping by and I knew the ache around my heart was my brother, my twin, the thin threads of ether that bound us together even after the womb were snapping. It felt like someone was scraping out part of my soul with a blunt spoon. I was sucking in air, trying to remain calm, trying to push down the hysteria bubbling up, the rage, the grief, but that second I felt my brother leave me, the last string wrenching free, the echo of a second heartbeat in my chest going silent, that was too much. I started to scream then, a sound I’d never heard escaping from me. I collapsed onto the sand my fingers raking up bits of it reflexively. I dug furrows in the ground trying to feel something, anything else. I wanted to destroy something like I was being destroyed. I wanted my rage to burn the face of God.  
I don’t know how long I lay there, making that awful keening sound. It seemed like the world had stopped and all there was this gaping despair clawing at my insides. 

“I never thought I’d hear that sound again.” A voice broke over you in the dark.  
“What, who’s there?” I tried to compose myself, instead just smearing blood from torn up hands in a ruddy stripe down my face. A dark shape shifted thru the night, he didn't walk up, he emerged from the shadows like he'd always been there. They still clung to him, he looked like an insubstantial nightmare, the last few seconds between dreaming and waking.  
“Names are…complicated. You called out and the Hunt heard you. Now I’m here, wondering at the curiosity of seeing the soul I was to pick up in The New World, here, on this older shore.”  
“Are you talking about my brother?” I was starting to feel hysterical, I must be fucking hallucinating this. Suddenly he was closer, more real and Christ, he was huge. He loomed over me, my face about level with his sternum. His face was all angles, flesh harshly slashed over bone and it was a pale milk color, a study of chiaroscuro against the black of his hair. But his eyes, his eyes were what made the blood chill in my veins, that gray iridescent swirl was alien and cold.  
“Twins." He drew out the word as both a question and a statement. " I see. Interesting. Are you interested in a barter than? ”He grabbed my chin in his long fingered hand, turning it left then right in a merciless grip.  
“A barter?” I tore my chin free of his grasp with some difficulty. He slowly licked the edge of his thumb where my blood had smeared.  
“Yes. What would give to have your leathchupla back a ghra?”  
“Anything. Bring him back. “ He laughed at my answer; I was never much of a bargainer. I started to back away both afraid and insulted. “Dunno know why I’m even entertaining this, there’s no way some stranger can fix it.”  
“I can.” He held out his hand to me. “Ride the Hunt with me for a night.”  
“One night? That’s it? ” I nervously studied the area, I couldn't see anything that he was referring to but the night had gone darker, and the ominous feeling of hundreds of eyes crawled over my skin.  
“That’s all I need.”  
I took his hand and didn’t look back. What I didn’t realize then was once you rode with the Hunt, you could never return.


	2. Look but Don't Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making it out of the 100 mile Wilderness is the least of your problems

100 Mile Wilderness-  
“How do you know this is exactly where Purgatory spit you out?” Sam was starting to get bitchy after the long hike from the Impala. His face was screwed up in a grimace as he trailed behind his brother protecting his back, periodically walking backwards to ensure nothing surprised them.  
“It’s not the type of thing you forget Sam. Memory Lane is pretty clear," Dean gestured toward his head vaguely with the gun in his hand, "land here, scare campers over there, run like hell.” Dean navigated the area, pausing periodically to get his bearings. They trekked on for awhile, but it wasn't unpleasant. Sam was chewing on something behind him, he could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.  
“Dean, I’m sorry.” Sam broke the amiable silence, lowering his machete.  
“For what? Being a baby about a nature hike when you are a fitness queen with all the jogging and salad?” Dean joked, a smile breaking across his face as he stopped and scanned the area for movement.  
“No, jerk." Sam hesitated, obviously not wanting to pick at what might be a still open wound. "I’m sorry I never looked for you back then. I feel like this is throwing it right back in your face.”  
“Water under the bridge Sammy.” Dean said.  
“Yeah but…”Sam said.  
Dean finally turned and faced Sam deliberately. “SAM, I get it. Really. Haven’t we had this talk about chick flick moments?" Dean tried to shift the mood lighter and turned back to the path only he could see. "Besides it all worked out didn’t it. Me and you together again, fighting the good fight. Besides it’s been a long time Sam. Years.”  
“Yeah. Well apology stands anyway.” Sam pushed the final branch out of the way that Dean had playfully let slap back at him. Dean scouted the small clearing with satisfaction, nodding his head curtly.  
“Ok teenage girl, here’s the exit, see anything?” Dean asked.  
Grass and weeds were flattened in almost a skipping pattern outside of what appeared to be ground zero, where even limbs were sheared off trees and there was a patch of frozen earth where Dean assumed the portal opened. He bent down, leaning on his knees to run his hand over the ice permeating the ground, the grass blades looked like sliver knives in the dappled sunlight. “It looks like whatever came out landed hard.” Sam knelt down near the flattened vegetation in one of the skip marks, pulling it back to spot a groove cut into the earth.  
“Yeah not exactly a Maverick landing. I guess we keep looking for signs they passed thru.” Dean said. With that they spread out trying to ascertain the direction the unknown creature had ventured. They quickly picked up a trail of broken branches and disturbed ground and moved along quietly and hastily hoping they caught up to it before it ripped thru an innocent camper or made its way to civilization. 

I wandered thru what seemed like an endless forest, the edge of desperation I felt that had kept me moving was now feverishly wearing out. How did I even know which direction to go? What if I was just wandering deeper into wherever the hell I was? How long had I been asleep? Christ I’m hungry, like the not eaten in days hungry, my stomach knotting up. I briefly considered eating some leaves before I ruled that out as potentially making me dead. I had no idea what was safe to eat and what was going to make me sick enough to where I couldn’t press on. Finally it seemed like there was a path instead of random wilderness so I started to follow that, getting excited about the prospect of finding people and more importantly, food. I was starting to adjust to the richness of color, that verdant green and sickly yellow, and I kept staring at the lapis expanse of sky, looking up more frequently than I needed to just to see the color blue again. It was wretchedly normal and the most reassuring thing about this place.  
When the path finally ended, it did so suddenly; I turned a corner and there was a parking lot. It was so normal and familiar that I almost collapsed in relief. It was like a mirage in the desert, I knelt down to touch the asphalt to make sure it was real. The scorching surface assured me it was. It had one lone car in the lot, and the amount of branches and debris everywhere told me it wasn’t a popular area to launch from. I strode up to the car in awe, it was the first car I’d seen in a long time and for my initial sight it was a beauty. Pure American muscle, a 1967 Impala; smooth black paint and clean as a whistle. I ran my fingers over the body where it rose and dipped and I thought, for the first time in a long time, about my Chevelle; prolly still in storage in my world, gathering dust I’d never wipe off. Man, fresh out of Purgatory and I see the damn Supernatural car, life is fucking strange I thought to myself with a laugh. I started to try the handle when I heard the distinct sound of a bullet being chambered via slide.  
“Care to tell me why you got your hands all over my car?”

I slowly turned around, raising my arms deliberately. I realized I had a caveman tool of an axe in one hand but I wasn’t about to let go of it. We’d been thru a lot together, Señor Choppy and me.  
“Easy cowboy.” I replied. “Why don’t you come out so we can talk about this?”  
When he emerged from the surrounding greenery I was dumbstruck. Dean fucking Winchester. Again.  
“Christ, you’d think we’d had enough of this gun pointing and threats at this stage of our relationship Dean.” I said with false confidence, lowering my arms to chest height. My grip on Senor Choppy tightend fractionally to offset the tremors in my fingers and I shifted to a defensive stance, feet spread. I started to ease back away from Dean, not wanting him to close the gap as he seemed determined to do.  
“How do you know my brother?” Sam snuck out to the left, boxing you in.  
“Everybody knows the Winchesters, Samantha." I studied him for a second, affirming what I assumed. "Glad to see Lucifer isn’t wearing you to the Prom anymore.”  
“What the hell?” Both brothers echoed, steadily moving closer to me. I felt cold sweat start to trickle down my back and a traitorous drop worked its way down my neck.  
I started to edge my way around the car, giving Sam a wide berth and trying to keep an eye on Dean simultaneously.  
“Why don’t we just chalk this up to a shitty reunion and go our separate ways?” I smoothly stated, still clutching the axe. My legs felt like lead and I knew I wouldnt outrun them.  
“Not gonna happen.” Sam deadpanned.  
“Listen Sweetheart, we can’t let you just walk away from permanent time out in monster heaven. I know it’s all manwich all the time out here but we won’t let you snack pack a bunch of civilians.” Dean cocked his head to the side with a slight smile, still training the gun on me.  
“You think I’m a monster?” I choked on a laugh that couldn’t be suppressed. “I’m wearing blue pajama pants- real terrifying. Sorry to disappoint boys, but I’m all tragically human under this fashion disaster.”  
“Ok, then prove it.” Dean casually slid his gun back into the waistband of his pants while rapidly advancing. “Sam here will keep his gun on you while I run the standard tests to make sure you’re not lying.” He pulled out a vial of holy water and got close enough to splash you with it.  
“The face really?” I sputtered trying to wipe my face while keeping the grip on the weapon. While distracted,Sam grabbed me from behind, immobilizing my arms above and behind my back. Dean proceeded to cut my arm with silver as I screeched in fury. The bite of the silver knife had a slight burn to it, mostly the cut itself but with a taste of something extra. That coppery scent in the air combined with the brandished knife was enough to make the whites of my eyes show as I fought to remain conscious. Instinct kicked in and I redoubled my efforts to free myself, almost dislocating my arm in the process. Sam tightened his grip in response, grunting out a harsh breath.  
“Get the hell off of me asshole! I told you I wasn’t a fucking monster!” You twisted viciously in Sam's grip but couldn't break the hold. He was too fast to damage with your feet and too tall to head-butt.  
“Oh and we just had to take your word, right?” Dean sarcastically spit out. "You barge, and I do mean in the worst sense possible, thru purgatory’s gate like a drunk and you expect us to just go, ok... must be human ?”  
“You. Are . A. Fucking. Douche.” I gritted out each word as Dean disarmed me and started to search for more weapons. My arms were prickling with the first tingles of numbness, Sam had me in a nelson and stretched out, tippy toes only on the ground. He paused when he pulled out the flask that held what was left of the water and rose up to eye level accusingly slow, a scorching look on his face.  
“Where did you get this?” Dean’s voice was dangerously soft.  
“A friend gave it to me. Not that I owe you an explanation.” I lifted my chin but gave up twisting in Sam's grip.  
“A friend? This is Benny’s flask bitch. And you’re going to tell me how you got it.” Dean looked murderous now, a vein twitching near his temple.  
“Benny? Like I brought you back from Purgatory only to send you back, Benny?” Sam was incredulous and in his surprise he loosened his grip, allowing me to dead weight him and slip free. My arms were wooden, licks of fire streaking down bringing back sensation slowly. Despite this my hands bunched into fists I wasnt sure if I could use.  
“Yes, Benny. My friend. The guy who got me thru fucking Purgatory. I realize you also had some bonding moments during your vacation to Hell Adjacent. He says Hi by the way” I spit at Dean.

PURGATORY-  
“Darlin, this aint no place for a nice girl like you.” I couldn't see him very well, but the man was taller than me and stocky. I could tell he had a beard and his voice carried a southern cadence. My hair was stuck to my face and my head was pounding out a thousand beats of pain as I drug myself up from the ground where the portal had dropped me. My first attempt was poor, my left leg wouldn't support my weight, I compensated on the right causing twinge of pain but getting the job done.  
“Whoever said I was nice?” I threw back my head on a wet sounding laugh that made my loose teeth rattle, and had no real feeling to it. I limped to face him as he circled me, my movements jerky and labored. I made a shoddy fist with my mostly undamaged hand, and raised my other arm up as far as it would go. I was outmatched here and I knew it. I was too exhausted and relived to be in a new universe and pain was beating a tattoo inside my head that made my vision go unfocused. Even with the sheer adrenaline keeping me going, I just couldn’t muster up the reserve it took to fight this guy. He looked familiar...  
He smelled the air while circling me, closing his eyes almost reverently, “Hot damn they’re just letting anyone in now. Do I have some kind of human magnet attached to me?”  
“You’re Benny.” It hit me in a flash, the line connecting thought and memory snapping into place. “We all thought you were dead.”, I said.  
“Technically I am dead cher. By the looks of it you ain’t too far off it either.”, Benny said. He relaxed, the tenseness in his shoulders smoothing out.  
“Yeah, I’m fresh out of a place worse than even this shithole.” I drily commented back. I couldn’t even keep my arms up anymore. My legs were starting to wobble dramatically too. Black spots began to tunnel my vision and before I collapsed entirely he swooped in to support my arms jarring me back to reality when fresh pain jolted my arm and shoulder.  
“Well the welcome wagons gonna be a little late darlin.“ He said not unkindly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  
“If you’re gonna eat me just do it already. I'm kinda hoping since you were a stone cold charmer in the show you won’t, but Purgatory is Purgatory, right?” I said, closing my eyes, surrendering to the inevitable. At this point it would be interesting to finally die, the permanent kind.  
“The Show?”, was the last thing I heard before I passed out completely.  
I woke up situated dangerously close to the edge of a cliff, a fire separating me and Benny who was scanning the surrounding woods. The fire was laid out in a long line cutting off anyone from reaching me and me from escaping. Most of my blood had been cleaned off and I was haphazardly bandaged with cloth scraps in the worse places I was cut up. My arm was in a makeshift sling and hung uselessly, my fingers were roughly splinted.  
“You’re finally awake.” He softly commented without turning around, easing into a sitting position. “You’ve been out for days.”  
“Jesus.", I fought to stand, to find words for kindness that I'd forgotten, "Have you been carrying my fat ass around for days? Fuck man I’m sorry to dump this shit on you. But thanks for everything, especially not treating me like meals on wheels.” I buried the shock and horror, compartmentalizing it for later. My voice still hadn't come back right, it was too harsh and discordant, permanently reset from screaming.  
“You were touch and go there for awhile. I was worried you wouldn’t make it. You said a lot of strange things when you were out.”, Benny said. He trailed off, expecting a response.  
“I can only imagine. How am I clean? Like I’m really clean, like bath clean…”, I said. My eyebrow shot up pertinently, an edge to my voice that betrayed my casual words.  
“Well I was a perfect gentleman, but you were bleeding all over and the smell alone was going to draw things in. I thought it was best to give you a good scrub and see what the damage was. Nice outfit by the way. “, Benny said.  
“Well what can I say, thought Purgatory was super casual with all the 'I want to eat you' all the time from everyone. I didn’t get a whole lot of wardrobe choices when I started this journey.”, I said.  
“Who cut on you like that? I thought for sure when I saw the extent that you weren’t going to make it. After a few days you turned a big corner and started to heal. And I don’t mean in a natural human like way.”, Benny said. He turned and faced me then, arms still seemingly relaxed but I could see the coiled spring in him.  
“Shit. That means he’s here. And if I’m healing he must be close. We have to keep moving.” My eyes flew about wildly searching for danger, hysteria bubbling up my throat.  
“Who? Who’s coming?” He stood at attention, whirling about to check the perimeter.  
“Gwynn. And we don’t want to be here when he catches up.” The limp was better than I remembered but still present as I paced the confines of my fire barrier trying to come up with a plan, any plan other than sit and wait for the real monster.  
“Are you even able to go on the move? You’re not exactly in fighting shape there.”  
“I’ll manage. You don’t have to stick with me. You’ve done enough for me already.” The fire was already dying down on the right side, I tested it with my foot.  
“Well I gotta say I’m mighty intrigued. Nothing much new happens here and from what I’ve gathered we have a mutual friend in common, don’t we?” He kicked some dirt on the patch I'd been eyeing and helped me over the worst of it despite my cringing at his touch.  
“What did I say when I was out? What makes you say that?” I said, unable to stop myself from drawing away from him the second I could. I gave him an apologetic look but didn't move to let him in my space.  
“Come on, all that moaning about Deano and you’re gonna play dumb?” He took another cautious step in my direction.  
“Don’t say that name to me.” A vicious denial and more backwards creeping towards the dark expanse of forest at my back.  
“He do this to you? What kind of toss up did you get into with him?” Benny slightly raised his weapon instinctivly.  
“Ancient history Benny. Leave it.”  
“Well I figure you owe me a pretty good favor considering I fixed your busted ass and then defended your unconscious one for days from all the creepy crawlies that came knocking, so share with the class.” He maintained what seemed to be the maximum allotance of proximity you would allow without retreating.  
“FINE. I knew him a few fucking parallel universes ago and he was a goddamn shit show. Granted the world had ended and all but there’s understandable dickness, and then there’s terminator dickness. He was the latter. We hooked up for a minute and then he traded me for the colt. End of story.”  
“Doesn’t sound like the Dean I know.”  
“Yeah surprise. Hes an asshole.”


	3. The End in the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanation time for you and the Winchesters

THE IMPALA-  
They bundled me into the car aggressively, my arms and legs banging the trim pieces in the door, compounding my bruises. Dean had Senor Choppy, but I still had a scalpel stashed somewhere I was pretty sure they weren't going to check. I rubbed the side of my bicep as I watched him thumb the edge of the blade before chucking it into the trunk.  
“Can we at least stop for a cheeseburger somewhere? I’m fucking starving.” I may have talked them into not handcuffing me but Sam was still keeping a wary eye on me with his gun resting in his lap, his mouth a grim undecided line. Dean kept rigidly front facing, Benny’s flask resting on the seat next to him, when he cut a turn it started to slide off, prompting me to reach for it. Our hands touched for a second, static electricity arcing. I snatched my hand back like I’d be burned, he just raised one eyebrow up at me in the rearview mirror. Sam’s face scrunched up at the scene, looking back and forth from me to Dean. We were pulling into a town now and I stared at the food signs with obvious desperation. Dean pulled into a 24 hour diner on the outskirts and turned around towards me as he parked, his face impenetrable. Sam seemed surprised that we were stopping, but he covered it quickly.  
“Listen, were going to hook you up with some food here as a sign of our willingness to compromise. But if you try to take off we are going to have a serious problem. So no bathroom breaks or powdering your fucking nose in there, Capice? I’ve already chased your ass down once today and I don’t want to do it again.” Dean said. He slammed the Impala door for emphasis and aggressively got into my personal space without actually touching me. It made my fingers itch for Senor Choppy and I couldn't help the slight eye tick when he was too close to my face. I covered it with sarcasm and false bravado, shoring myself back up with a smirk.  
“Scouts honor” I mocked holding up two fingers. “At this point you’re my best chance at putting as much distance between me and this place with a minimum of effort so I promise I’m not going to go all Steve McQueen on you.”  
We went inside with the brothers flanking me like I was a flight risk. Once we were seated in a booth Dean deigned to box me in by sitting on the outside of the bench seat. I smashed myself as far into the wall as I could, leaving a demilitarized zone between us. The waitress looked at us like we were a car wreck, still smoking and terrible. I reached up and touched my hair and thought about how insane I must look. Dean flashed her a badge and whispered something to her that I'm sure I didn't want to hear but when she straightened back up she took my order without openly gaping at me. Sam looked incredulous as I ordered what would feed 3 people, but Dean still had that poker face on. I drank my water the waitress brought and then Dean's without a shred of remorse. I was eyeing up Sam's when Dean broke the silence and the waitress brought the rest of our items.  
“Ok, spill.” Dean said. He looked at her, this hollow eyed, dirty, and obviously twitchy woman. There wasn't a piece of her that wasn't streaked in mud or worse. There were things stuck in her hair that he didn't even want to think about, somewhat hidden by the fact she had it all swept up in a snarly knot. The pieces that escaped were long, touching her waist. She was devouring food, Dean remembered that being in Purgatory was like being touched by Famine, it made you hungry for everything, a thirst that could never be slaked.   
I spoke between sloppy mouthfuls of food, “I was in Purgatory. Now I’m not. I took the same exit you did. Benny showed me the way. I tried to talk him into hitching a ride here but he said that had already played out.”  
“How did you get into Purgatory? Last time I checked the only way was either a spell or being blasted there by exploding Dick. And that doesn’t explain how you knew who we were on sight.”, Dean said.  
I proceeded to fill them in on the fact that in my original universe Supernatural was a show, like the one they had visited compliments of Balthazar. That seemed to satisfy them until Sam asked,“That doesn’t explain what you said to me. You said Lucifer isn’t wearing me to the Prom anymore. And you said something about a reunion. We’ve never met before now. “  
“Ok, fine, I haven’t met you, you. I’ve met Lucifer you.” I said.  
“How is that possible?” Sam was incredulous. “I’d remember if we’d met even during the possession.”  
“Because it wasn’t in this universe apparently", I said shifting to face Dean in the seat but still leaving that canyon space. "Dean, do you remember the ghost from Christmas future trip that you got sent on? ", I gestured emphatically with my cheeseburger. "World ending, croatoan virus?" I realized I'd slung ketchup across the table in my enthusiasm and reddened, finally setting the burger down after Dean's searching look. I was pounding enough coffee to keep myself awake for the next year, I knew how tired I was and I wouldn't be able to sleep for a long time yet. Caffeine was going to have to carry my ass. "I met you there. Both of you. And trust me; it’s not a happy memory.” I said.  
Dean flinched at my cold detached tone. He understood what I’d been dealing with there. “How do you know that you’re telling the truth?” Dean replied.  
“Why would I lie? Visit any rose gardens lately?” I knew I was being a bitch, but that wound hadn’t closed. It had barely started to scab over and here he was ripping it open again. There was an awkward pause after that, Dean not willing to push and Sam confused. 

“Let’s get moving.” Dean stood up abruptly throwing money on the table. I sat there wavering, unwilling to leave any food behind, trying to figure out where I could cram in my pockets and what I could carry when Sam handed over a take out box wordlessly. I wrapped my hands around the now full container protectively as we exited the restaurant.  
They bustled me back into the rear seat of the Impala, and stood off towards the trunk for a powwow. I kept unintentionally crunching the take out box and smoothing it out as I waited. I turned around to keep an eye on them, if they were going to pull some shit, I wanted to see it coming. I tried to remember that these were the good guys and all I kept thinking about was all the morally gray area I'd seen from them. And the fact that I didn't know if I was good anymore, something worth their protection.  
“She hit a nerve there.” Sam said quietly, waiting for his brother to explain.  
“Leave it Sam. “ Dean wandered further away from the car, averting his face from her accusing gaze.  
“Were going to have to talk about this Dean. I saw your face in there. And short of dropping her off and never looking back; which you seem hesitant to do, its gonna come up. I’d rather hear it from you first.”  
“Fine. I told you I got to see what was going to happen right? When we got back together after Zachariah put me in the time warp? When I said we’d keep each other human?”  
“Yeah? A little.” Sam went vague for a moment trying to recall.  
“Well it meant for me too. I made some questionable ass choices there Sam. Shit I’m not proud of.”  
“What about the rose garden?”  
“Its where you, not you- you, but Lucifer broke Freaky Friday me’s neck in our Mexican standoff.”  
“A Mexican standoff is where both parties are stuck Dean, not where one party break the other parties neck.”  
“Ok word police you get the drift.”  
“Ok what was with that weird moment in the car? I mean I get it from her side, if she went toe to toe with you in a bad way before, but what about your reaction?”  
“I don’t know Sam, it was a weird passing thing.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like I recognized her. It was familiar ok? I don’t know what else to say about it without feeling like a girl. And I am officially uncomfortable now ok, can we please just go?”  
“Go where? Are we bringing her back to the Bunker? Dropping her off…” Sam asked.  
“She’s coming back to the bunker.” Dean cut Sam off. ”I have a feeling this rabbit hole goes even deeper than we thought. Also did you notice how eager she is to keep moving, like something’s after her? I think we need to figure out what she’s running from first and why she’s here.”  
“So you buy her whole- I’m traveling thru multiple universes story? And if something else is coming, why aren't we staying here to take care of it?” Sam said.  
“Haven’t we seen this kind of weird before? Besides, how else do you explain it? She knows things Sam; and she passed all the various tests so she’s human as me and you. If you have another reasonable explanation, I’m all ears. And not to mention if that girl's survived Purgatory with her sense of humor intact and wants to run scared shitless now...whatever that is has got to be bad. I'd rather have a little more time to figure it out and Home Field advantage.” Dean finished.  
Sam considered this before nodding his agreement. We drove thru the night, Dean blasting his tapes and me wishing for a cigarette. After all this time I thought I would quit but the itch was back. I couldn't sleep, I laid there not really awake, listening to the music and sweating over the fact that I would have to sleep eventually. That had been the best part about Purgatory, you didn't need to sleep, or eat or anything remotely human. It didn't stop you from wanting to do it, you just didn't need to, you'd live anyway. I'd found out that I wouldn't collapse after days with no sleep and I'd done a straight happy dance with Benny. After those first nameless days I'd been unconscious and Benny had taken care of me, I never slept in Purgatory again. It was liberating, no nightmares, no vulnerability. Just me and Benny cutting our way thru the world without hesitation, without morals or should haves or anything else messing it up. I forced myself to relax, my eyes felt over dry and my muscles were screaming. The sun was starting to creep up slowly when I popped up, resting my arms on the back of the front bench seat. I couldn't fall asleep here, there was too much unknown, too much that I didn't want anyone to see that I couldn't hide in my sleep.  
“Mind taking a pit stop? I could use some smokes and we gotta be needing gas soon.” I said.  
“You sure you can afford to stop? You were pretty adamant about keeping up a good clip here.” Dean said.  
“Yeah. It’s going to take him a minute to figure out which way I went and we’ve got a good head start.“ I realized that because I was tired and crabby I’d let too much slip there.  
“Who’s stuck to your shoe? Out with it, we gotta know what’s coming.” Dean said.  
“Fine. Be prepared to be skeptical then. I’m being chased thru multiple dimensions by Gwynn ap Nudd, the leader of the Wild Hunt.” I gestured dramatically and spoke in my best spooky voice as I was sure he’d take me as seriously as if I’d said I was being chased by a unicorn.  
“What?” he replied sarcastically. At this point I realized Sam was awake as well, watching me carefully. As Dean pulled into a gas station he pulled out his laptop and started furiously typing.  
I jumped out and before Dean could say anything I added, “I know no running yadda yadda yadda. Swift and ferocious punishment and so on. I’ll be right back.”  
While Dean was filling up Sam updated him from the car.  
“So get this, the lore says this Gywnn ap Nudd leads something called the Wild Hunt and is sometimes referenced to as the King of the Underworld. People encountering the hunt are said to be abducted or immediately killed. There’s some dispute as to whether he harvests the souls of the dead or makes deals like a crossroads demon. But most of the sources agree that his origins are faerie based.”  
“Damn faeries. Not these son of a bitches again.”  
“So I see you’re familiar with the fair folk then.” I nonchalantly commented, weaving around the pump to hand Dean a pie slice I'd found. “Thanks for the ride. And the food yesterday.”  
“Speaking of which I thought you didn’t have any money?” Dean looked at the pie both longingly and suspiciously before tossing it on the drivers seat. He studied her, cleaner and hair sheared off in a pixie. He had almost not recognized her, she must still have a knife hidden somewhere to have given herself a makeover.  
“I don’t.” I supplied as I lit my first cigarette and started to chug the soda I'd five finger discounted, needing the caffeine. I blew a smoke ring around his head to irritate him. “It’s a peace offering not something you scrapped off the ground.” I said referring to the pie.  
“So you made a deal.” Sam interjected, bitch face on full display.  
“Because you’ve never done that.” I flashed back. “Yes. I made a deal. To ride with the Hunt for one night.”  
“What did you trade for? Money? From the way you inhaled those burgers, a way to skip thru the dieting phase?” Dean said “My brother.” I combatively spit back. “My brother was dying thousands of miles away and I thought one night was worth it.”  
“But you could never go back.” Sam’s voice was full of pity now.  
“Yeah the fine print's a motherfucker. ” I drew in another drag of my cigarette before flicking it away and lighting another. The sun caught the edge of the silvery scars on my wrists, now visible after I'd cleaned up a little in the bathroom. I was actually happy about all the bruising along my arms and neck, it obscured the worst of the scars. I knew it didn't matter, well that it shouldn't matter, but I knew Dean wouldn't miss those, that power of observation was goddamn annoying.  
“Meaning?” Deans face had softened, but was still serious.  
Sam finished the explanation - “ Once someone rides with the Hunt, they can never return. Once they set foot on the ground, they either die or whatever deal is made is reversed from what I understand.”  
“Exactomundo. If I try to go back, my brother is dead. I was stuck with the Hunt or in Faerie pretty much.” I said.  
“So how are you here?” Sam was curious.  
“Here isn’t there. Rules are different. I got a chance to get out and I took it.” I shrugged my shoulders and took a deceptively nonchalant drag off the cigarette.   
They were both quiet then. There’s not much to say after an admission like that.

We got back on the road in a tense silence. There wasn’t even music to distract me and the amount of caffeine intake was making me drum my fingers against the back of the seat. Sam was driving now and Dean was trying to catch up on some sleep which I guess meant that they trusted me enough. After a few hours and a couple of almost attempts at conversation Sam broke the silence,“You realize your hair is getting long again.”  
I curled my hands around the ends that were almost past my chin even though I'd hacked a good majority of it off at the gas station. I'd had Benny shear it almost to my scalp in Purgatory after getting a few chunks ripped out by the natives and it had grown back before I'd universe jumped. ”I know. He’s here. In this world.”  
“That’s how you know?”  
“That’s how I know. Call it an overbearing warning system. I can keep cutting it and he’ll keep making it grow back.” I was tired again, a mental tired that no amount of caffeine would alleviate. I cracked another soda open in spite of that.  
“I almost didn’t notice it. I thought my eyes were playing tricks.”  
“By tonight, maybe tomorrow morning it will be to my waist.” I huffed, irritated.  
“He keeps making your hair grow? Creepy.” Sam said.  
“Tell me about it.”, I said  
“I take it that it’s more than a broken deal then? That’s pretty, well intimate for a disgruntled salesman.” Sam said.  
“Yeah let’s just say he’s a little butthurt his favorite toy is off gallivanting without him.” I absently rubbed my wrists, the fine white lines making a pattern I tried to rub away like a stain.


	4. Echoes

100 MILE WILDERNESS-  
He felt the loss of her like an ache, she had already moved on. He could smell her, but it was faint. Following the scent wasn’t the problem. It was the two other scents that gave him a friction of distaste and unease. It was so similar to... The thought gave him a small sense of satisfaction and one end of his mouth slightly fixed into a semblance of a smile. He’d break her this time. Of all the incarnations, this one was closest to the original, she had that same defiant spirit and will to survive that had made it possible for him to get her this far. Most of the others died, killed themselves or couldn't endure the Mark. Or he found them too late, the aging of their human body too much for him to bear. She would see things his way and give up on this foolish crusade. She was still too limited to see it, to understand that he was honoring her, allowing a human to ride with the Hunt hadn't won him any favor in his realm. He was making her better, more worthy, something the others could respect. Why couldn't she understand that he was doing it for both of them. That change was painful, and acceptance in the realm of the Hunt meant change on a visceral level. More time in Faeirie and a few more spells written in flesh and she could be immortal, she could be like him. Then this cycle could finally close the way it had always meant to, with her by his side, forever. An eternity was long enough for her to let go of the mortal coil, of the brief memory of pain and loss fading after a few millennia, allowing her the perspective to appreciate and admire what he'd made of her. He stalked thru the trees like a predator, wildlife scattering from his presence alone. Soon, he thought.  
THE BUNKER-  
Dean parked the car in the garage, having switched back with Sam on the drive back. He opened the back door as I looked up at him puzzled, avoiding his outstretched hand.  
“Deciding to be polite now?” I leveled.  
“Yeah. Sorry about, well you know. Being a dick. ”, Dean said.  
I didn’t know what to say to that so I shoved myself out of the car. Dean seemed to be less concerned it being risky but you could tell it was awkward for you to be here.  
“Not a lot of strays being brought home is there?” I observed. “Usually you get to ride off into the sunset without the baggage.”  
“I didn’t, well…” Dean sputtered as Sam grinned at his discomfort.

"Its fine dude. Just giving you shit. Besides someone had to say it.” I said.  
Sam gave me the grand tour, told me which rooms were off limits etc. I camped out in the library portion and poured myself a drink, causing Sam to give me a look I recognized too well. Dean hung out on the fringes, leaning against the side of the entry.  
“Little early for that.” Dean observed.  
“Well I’ve had a hell of a…year? Few hundred years? I lost count.” I said.  
“I can’t believe it hasn’t come up until now but how old are you? What year was it when you left your world? Sam asked.  
“Last I checked I was thirty one. Year was 2016.” I replied.  
“Well you’ve lost a few months then. Its 2017.” Sam said.  
“What month?” I asked.  
“June.” Sam answered.  
“Damn, I guess I’m thirty two in quasi real time then. It seemed so much longer than that.” I said.  
“How long did you think you were gone?” Sam asked.  
“Which world? Each...sometimes a decade? Longer? I stopped counting a long time ago.” I said.  
“Times different in Purgatory.” Dean stepped into the room and the conversation.  
“Times different in a lot of places.” I quietly slid in.  
Dean raised an eyebrow at that. “Visit a lot of places did you?”  
“Enough. And strangely, one filled entirely with shrimp. Who’d have thought Buffy would have accurately called that?” I said.  
“Shrimp?” Dean let the surprised comment pass before he cracked a short laugh.  
“Yeah, I thought I’d never get the smell off me.” I was laughing too before I knew it.  
“Well how did you get started? I thought these faerie deals were permanent. And from what the lore says it isn’t easy to get them to let you loose. And why aren't you, I don't know, decades or whatever older? ” Sam asked.  
“Its not. I had help. Gwynn kept me close, but even he had to pay tribute to the Seelie Queen, as his stables are in the Summerlands." Before Sam could pepper me again I finished, " Summerlands as in no other season, no one ages in Faeirie, time's all wonky there.”  
“So he horse traded you?” Dean was offended, his tone was appalled.

Not exactly. She thought what he brought was insufficient. I offered an alternative.”  
“What alternative?” Sam asked gently. Dean's jaw was back to the stony grip it had been in earlier.  
“I offered Gwynn’s services. I offered her the Wild Hunt for a night.”  
“You could do that?” Sam queried.  
“Technically I rode with the Hunt. That offer must be made by Gwynn but in this case I had trapped him in a catch-22.”  
“How so?” Dean moved closer to me, pouring himself a drink and sitting in the opposite chair.  
“The faerie court is based on a complicated protocol. I remembered that much from mythology. I knew there was a chance if I put it out there he wouldn’t be able to refuse without being rude.”, I said.  
“So he gave you up because being a gentleman is more important? Sounds like a pansy.” Dean gritted.  
“No, this follows with what I’ve been reading about them Dean, they bound by a specific set of complicated rules. If he would have refused…”, Sam said.  
I interrupted Sam, “She could have forfeited their arrangement about stabling the Wild Hunt. Deals are iron clad in faerie. But they have to be maintained.”  
“So then what?” Sam was eager to know.  
“She offered me a favor. I couldn’t go back without breaking my original deal, but I could go somewhere else. I could go looking for something.” I said.  
“Looking for what?” Dean leaned in closer, watching my eyes.  
“That’s my business.” I said.  
“Sweetheart, you’re making it our business just by being here.” Dean countered.  
“Ok, fine. But this is going to sound crazier than anything I’ve told you so far.” I said.  
“Try us.” Dean challenged.  
“My soulmate. I’m supposed to be looking for my soulmate." I said the last one with air quotes, " It was the only thing I could pitch to her that she would even consider. ”  
“Your soulmate.” Dean deadpanned like I just told them I was best friends with the Easter bunny.  
“It’s the only thing I could think of to get out of her service. Protocol demanded that I ask for that first as a lower ranking being. Or to be remade. To ask to leave the fey is a great insult. Unless it’s for a higher purpose. Something they even hold sacred.”  
“And how do you know when you’ve found your ‘soulmate’?” Dean asked the last part with air quotes.  
“I don’t know. She said when I found it; Gwynn wouldn’t be able to touch me again. Or that's what I think she meant. There was a lot of bad rhyming. Damn fairies try too hard to be mystical sounding.”  
“So far no dice then.” Dean and Sam looked at me expectantly.  
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look bored. Some secrets had to be kept.  
THE SUMMERLANDS-  
“You have done me a great service Halfling. You very neatly trapped Gwynn into a favor I’ve been wanting for eons. Would you like to be a Summergirl? All you need do is ask. You’ve been with Gwynn long enough to know I have a debt owed to you now.”  
“Lady, while I would wish nothing more than to serve you, I could never fully be a Summergirl.”  
“You do have darkness in your heart Halfling. You know, of course, that I can’t return you to your world. And that by asking such you would insult the great favor I am willing to bestow upon you. Do you wish to be remade, or for death then? Do you wish for the death of your brother? I understand he has a child. What terrible circumstance would you lay upon the girl with your name?”  
I visibly swallowed. I was walking on thin ice and we both knew it.

"Lady, I would never insult you. I mean of course my Sonuachar. The partner the fey speak of.”  
“This is very rare indeed Halfling. Gwynn would make the argument that you are his, you bear the travesty of his mark on you already." She speared me with her loathing gaze that turned calculating. " He took a human lover once, did you know that? Many years ago, beyond memory, before I was Queen. He left our world for hers for long stretches and the Hunt became feral and raged out of control. The Dark King Oberon slew the girl as punishment for his neglect and razed his stables to the ground so he would have no rest from it. That’s how he came to roost here in my lands. They say that he grieved for thousands of years, near mad, and that he hasn’t taken a lover since. That he vowed to never take another.“ She was sly, peeking at me thru her lashes to gauge my reaction for most of her little speech. She paused for a long pregnant moment.  
“Give me your hands.” with her final statement she boldly held out her hands and faced me directly.  
I held my still cuffed hands out to her, the slim bracelets deceptively pretty but the scars on my wrists told a much darker tale. Her eyes flashed darker, their swirling colors spiraling into a storm. When she spoke I had the curious feeling that I knew it was more than speculation.  
“You’ll find what you seek in another world, both seen and unseen. It is what you make, nightmare or dream. When you claim it and it echoes true, the Dark One will be forever lost to you. Love can burn, love can mend; kills only that from that which it cannot defend.”  
Her eyes cleared again and she smiled genuinely for the first time. “Go then. Pick a portal that speaks to you in the Hall of All Days and seek out your Sonuachar. One of the Summergirls will show you the way.”


	5. Other Worlds than These

THE BUNKER-  
I’d filled the guys in as much as I could when it came to faerie proofing the bunker. We'd talked most of the day as Sam researched and Dean scoffed and very slowly came to believe me. They were both pleased that silver and iron were on the no fly list for the fey, as they had that in steady supply. After finally showering and changing into laundered clothes(still those damn blue pajama pants, Victoria’s Secret made comfy pants that had some life in them) compliments of an embarrassed Sam; I went to help Dean drive iron stakes into the entryways of the bunker. We’d worked in silence for most of the way, each of us whittling away in our own areas. For the garage door, the last piece of this bulletproofing, Dean finally broke the unspoken ‘Let’s get this done without oversharing’ thing we had going on. When he finally spoke it startled me with its abruptness.  
“I’ve seen scars like that before. Anything you decided to leave out in your 'Into the Wild' story?”  
“Plenty, I’m sure.” I leveled back, my tone cutting.  
“You said that you knew us from a show right? In your world? God, that still sounds seven kinds of freaky coming out of my mouth.” He was careful not to make eye contact.  
“Right..”  
“So you know that, well, that I was in the basement for awhile.”  
“Yeah end of Season 3.”  
“Season 3, for Christ’s sake, sure. They used my horrible death for end of season ratings go figure.”  
“I’m not gonna lie it was impressive on a big screen.” I tried to bring some levity back; avoiding what I knew was coming.  
“Well I’m so glad you were impressed. Really. Freaking awesome.” He was exasperated and I was hoping that was enough for him to drop it.  
“I know the look you’re trying not to give me right now. I know it because I’ve seen it in the mirror.”  
“Dean. Don’t.”  
“You’ve been there haven’t you. You can lay whatever crap on me you want but I know that pattern. That signature. I don’t know why and I don’t know how," He paused, almost choking on the words, "but you’ve gone a round with Alastair and lost. Except Alastair’s dead. Has been for some time now, iced right in front of me.”  
“Godamnit Dean! Why can’t you just leave this alone! I didn’t ask for this and I sure as hell don’t have to compare fucking war stories with you.” I sprung up defensive and on the verge of losing my shit completely. He stood up slowly, meeting my eyes with a look of both remembered horror and flinty resolve. “I know you’re leaving out a lot here. Just thought I’d let you know I’m calling your bluff. You can’t give us pieces of the puzzle and leave us in the dark with the full extent of what we’re dealing with. And sooner or later that load is gonna be too heavy to carry. Trust me.” With that I spun around and headed back inside. I’d hide in the fucking bathroom to get away from this conversation. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. He reached out and grabbed my arm, sending a shockwave up my nerve connections. Considering the look on his face he felt it too. Fuck.  
“What the Hell?!” he exclaimed. After not being appeased by the look on my face he reiterated, “Seriously, What the Hell?? You gonna lie to me now and say you don’t know what this is? Why couldn’t I leave you in those fucking woods, why did I argue with Sam to bring you back here? Tell me!”  
“I don’t know.” I said terrified by his increasing grip on my arm. That was definitely going to bruise.  
“Don’t lie to me.” He pulled me closer and gripped my other arm, getting in my face.  
“Fuck, ok, let fucking go of me!” I screeched. I'd frozen when he'd touched me, excitement and revulsion warring.  
“Not until you tell me what kind of mojo your laying on me babe. Whatever crap whammy you laid on me backfired. I know when you’re lying. I can sense it. Like hearing the wrong note played in a cover of Metallica.”

“I’ll explain what I do know, which is that I didn’t cast a fucking spell on you moron.”  
He cocked his ear to the side listening carefully. “Truth” he finally grunted. “Out with it then.”  
I broke out of his hold, slamming my hands down while twisting out of his grasp.  
“Keep your fucking hands off of me." I trembled as I tried to wipe away the memory of his touch. "You’ll never touch me again. Never again Dean." I jabbed my finger in his direction. "You burned me once and I’ll be damned if I let you do it again.” The words leapt out of mouth and I slightly reached out almost to try to grab them back.  
THE END- OUTSIDE OF DETROIT  
“White suit, that’s cute. You being the father of all evil and all.” Dean strolled up to where Lucifer was wearing Sam to the Prom.  
“Dean. Are you sure about this? I’ve left you alone out of respect for Sam but charging the Devil? That’s your plan?”  
“Me and my new friend here are going to make sure that this apocalypse gets played out without you.”  
Dean drew the Colt from behind his jacket and aimed at what once was Sam’s head.  
“Well then let’s put it to the test shall we?” Lucifer raised both his arms out mocking a crucifixion pose.  
“Eat it you piece of shit. This is for breaking the world.” With that Dean fired, shot ringing true and hitting Lucifer in the forehead.  
It seemed like the whole world paused, waiting to take a breath.  
Lucifer just laughed as the bullet started to reemerge, plopping out onto the ground uselessly, the former wound closing. “Dean really. I hate to be so anticlimactic but please tell me you have a follow up act.”  
“Gwynn! We made a deal!” Dean shouted.  
“Gwynn ap Nudd. Impressive. It’s been a long time since we’ve chatted. “ Lucifer's smile was feral.  
Gwynn ignored Lucifer and faced Dean, “Our deal is intact. I said I would fight him if necessary and I would give you the Colt. I do not deem it necessary to fight him at this particular moment and the quarry you promised me isn’t in a secure location yet, as we agreed.” Gwynn spoke softly but firmly.  
“You brought her here?” This staggered Dean a little, you could see that. With a pull on the chain Gwynn forced me forward, blood streaming down my wrists from the manacles fighting the force of emotion that kept me rooted in place. I stared at Dean with loathing, finally learning how Gwynn had found me. A terrible pain built up in my chest, a rending, tearing thing that made me want to howl. All the time I spent with him, all the times I thought I had chipped away at the wall he had built around himself, the little glimpses of what could have been flashed thru my mind, once sweet, now bitter. The fact that I had slept with him now disgusted me to the point of real nausea. A thousand moments ran thru my mind, all hollow and each one more heartbreaking than the last. His face hardened at the look you were giving him, and he turned away to face Lucifer.  
Gwynn forcefully grabbed my face and stared intently into my eyes, forcing my gaze. “I wanted her to see what her folly has wrought. What her supposed soulmate was willing to do. I wanted to kill the part of her that still hoped for something. And you gave me everything I needed. I think we're done here. Take one last look at your lover you spurned me for.”  
Gwynn released me, throwing me to the ground in the process. I stared at Dean’s back, despite all the betrayal I still wished he would look at me, try to explain. But nothing ever came. Gwynn dragged me away; I was too numb to fight back. I let myself be lead into a clearing where Gywnn was setting up a portal. I didn’t even care where to this time. Anywhere but here.  
“Perhaps we can take a trip down your Lover's past Pet. Lucifer has told me such tales of his exploits as the righteous man. I think we will pay a visit to an old friend of his where I will leave you for a time to get… acquainted. If you want to be human, I'll treat you as a human. In fact, perhaps I've been approaching this from the wrong angle. Pain is the crucible for human souls to be remade.” He mused, looking at me thoughtfully before he drug me thru.

THE BUNKER-  
Dean took a step back, starting to look like he’d bitten off more than he could chew. ”What are you saying? That I'm your soulmate?? Honey, I ain’t built for the long haul. Never was.”  
“Yeah I got the fucking memo in Detroit asshole.”  
“That’s what happened? You met Robocop me, shacked up for a minute, and when he decided to cabin jump on you…”  
“Not exactly.”  
“Than what exactly? “ Dean growled.  
“We deserve to know.” Sam stepped out looking alarmed. He must have been eavesdropping.  
“I hit that universe years before you 'Back to the Future'ed' it. Everything had already gone to shit. It took me awhile to even figure out where I was. Eventually I ran into you when I was on the run.”  
"How’d you manage with the monkey on your back?” Dean asked.  
“I figured that since this world was so badly fractured that he had problems tracking me in it. With everything so out of whack the signals keep getting crossed or something.”  
“So back to the part where you think I’m Price Charming.” Dean spit out.  
“ I ran into you in what was left of St. Louis. I saved your life when you got pinned down by some Croats and were out of ammo. You eventually took me back to Camp Chitaqua. We spent nearly a year ..collaborating. “ I rubbed my face, feeling a headache coming on, and my hands were shaking.  
“Which means we made the beast with two backs.”  
“Yeah… eventually. End of the fucking world and all. It seemed like checking Dean Winchester off my list was a plus at the time. “  
“What I don’t understand is; if you were in half the rush that you were when we met you, how and why would you stay so long in that universe?” Sam asked both awkward and curious.  
“You know traveling thru multiple universes isn’t easy. It’s not like I had a copy of 'Piercing the Veil for Dummies' handy. Plus I felt like it was worth it to be able to move around without having to constantly look over my shoulder as much. Gwynn hadn’t even come close to finding me and well things got.. complicated with..”  
“Me.” Dean did not seem happy.  
“You said I was baling on your universe. By the time you got the whole story out of me things had already gone too far, and I can't take passengers on these trips. And when I talked about moving on, well, you kinda lost your shit.”  
“So, I dumped you when you tried to leave me for dead? Great relationship. I can tell they’ll write songs about it.”  
“No, shit for brains. I didn’t leave and we didn’t ‘break up’. We slept together one last time and then you sent me on a solo mission. Where you set me up on a blind date with Gwynn. How do you think you got the Colt? ”  
“I know how I got the Colt. Future me nabbed it from a bunch of demons.”  
“Yeah and he’d never lie, right?” I was tired now. I could tell the boys were stunned.

“The worst part of it was I didn’t even know it was you. Not until Gwynn dragged me to that garden in Detroit for your showdown . Did you know that you weren’t even ashamed? All you cared about was stopping the Devil. I thought you were my soulmate when you didn’t have a soul. How’s that for fucking irony?”  
Sam took a step towards me, I don’t know if he wanted to comfort me or..well let’s just say I didn’t want to know.  
“I gotta get out of here.” I spun around and headed for the nearest exit. Slamming open the door I took big gaping breaths trying not to cry. I was done. I hoped I never cried again, those hateful tears trying to burn their way up my esophagus. I walked until I found a tree and chain smoked, trying not to think of all those things I let escape, trying to stuff it all back down into its little manageable box.

“I think she needs some time Dean. We all do. To process.” Sam grabbed Dean’s arm stopping him from following you out. Dean considered for a moment, at war with himself.  
“I need a drink.” He flung off Sam’s arm and headed inside.  
A few hours passed and I was officially out of cigarettes and it was dark. I had an internal debate waging on going back or just taking my chances on my own. I stood up pacing, ultimately wherever shit show was in that bunker was better than being on the run or caught by Gwynn again. I wasn't ready to be on my own yet. I headed back, meeting Dean on the way.  
“I brought you a jacket.”  
I took it from him and just stared at it uncomprehendingly.  
“Don’t look at me like that; it’s a jacket, not a proposal.” He followed up sheepishly.  
“Obviously.”  
“Look, about what you said in there. I had no idea..”  
“I know. To be fair I didn’t want to tell you.”  
“Dully noted. But we have to figure this thing out. When we do, I’ll go my way and you can go yours. “


	6. All Right Now

The guys were pouring thru the lore with my help and we’d been at it for days. I'd finally gotten new clothes and retired the Blue pajama pants to sleeping purposes only. Not that I was sleeping. Drinking myself into a coma to shut my brain off didn't really count. Dean and I avoided each other while Sam started warming up to me. We had a lot of conversations about alternate realities and what the next move might be. He wanted to know all about my life before too, about my brother and the people I’d left behind. He usually asked about before when Dean was in the room, figuring it was a safe topic that didn’t have anything to do with our shared awkwardness. I couldn’t spend all day in a room without talking forever.  
“So you and your brother were pretty tight? Before all this?”  
“Tight as they come, we’re twins.” I replied with a smile. ”Put a shitty patchy beard on me and I’m Nolan.”  
“That’s attractive.” Dean commented. It was the first time he’d joined one of the conversations causing me to quirk an eyebrow at him.  
“Not that I don’t understand, trust me, but what made you willing to go thru all this? I mean any kind of deal; you had to know that would go bad.” Sam looked at me earnestly.  
“Yeah Sam, you don't get on a magical horse with a scary dude in the middle of the night unless you're out of options or mentally deficient. My brother needed another second chance. I needed him to be ok.” I said.  
“What do you mean? I thought things didn’t go sideways for you until you decided to play My Little Pony with the Fairy Devil?” Dean looked up from his stack of books and made eye contact. I couldn’t tell if he was being patronizing or just interested.  
“Nolan…Nolan had problems. Straight decade of getting fucked up on whatever he could get this hands on, getting himself into debt and worse, and I always showed up to pull him back. “ I said.  
“So you what, babysat Scarface?” Dean asked, still maintaining my gaze.  
“Pretty much.” I could see that Dean wasn’t done. “He’s my brother.” I replied as if that explained everything.

“And you couldn’t give up on him.” Sam interjected, a grim understanding smile on his face.  
“Never. The Seelie Queen did tell me that he named his baby after me, so in some ways, it’s like I’m not really gone.”, I said.  
“Have you thought about trying to see him? In this universe I mean.” Sam asked.  
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it in a few of them. I looked for him at the end of the world, but he wasn’t there. In a few others I tried but what would I say? Hi, I'm an alternate reality version of your sister that may or may not exist here, wanna get a coffee?" I said.  
“Why don’t we look him up? We could run interference for you and it would be nice to take a break from shifting thru fairy tales.” Sam asked.  
“Sam.” Deans voice held a warning.  
“What? Dean she can never go back, wouldn’t it be nice for her to have some, I don’t know, closure?” Sam argued.  
Dean wiped his eyes and mouth with his hand and his face grew long with an emotion I couldn’t place. The moment stretched out until he gave in. “I already looked up your family.” He said with finality.  
“And?!” I shot back. He had looked them up and hadn’t said anything?  
“I don’t know how else to break this to you, so here goes. They did exist here. But not for a long time. There was some kind of... incident about ten years back. Your brother...he went crazy and did a lot of damage before he put himself down. They’re all gone. Everyone but you. And you’ve been missing for a long time, disappeared.” Dean said in a rushed exhale.  
I froze at his words, all the color draining from my face.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. After you dropped that bomb on us I figured that I would do some homework.” Dean said.

“I have to see it for myself.” I woodenly replied, one silent tear escaping that I couldn’t hold back. I started rubbing my eyes furiously trying to beat back the tide. I knew that this version of Nolan wasn't really mine, but damn it still had the power to hurt.

SOUTHERN ILLINOIS- 6 HOURS LATER  
I stood at the graves of my family while Dean and Sam leaned against the Impala. The village cemetery was small and the parish still buried people in the order of their deaths, the original custom of the 1800’s. They were all in a neat row, father, mother, younger sister; their glaring white stone crosses almost blinding in the sunlight. My brother wasn’t there; Catholic cemeteries won't bury a suicide inside the graveyard. I knelt down to brush away at the dirt towards the bottom of my father’s grave marker, there was a small cameo of his face at the apex of the cross that looked nothing like I remembered. The caretaker was making his rounds, cleaning up the debris from mowing earlier. Dean and Sam edged closer to hear what he had to say when he approached.  
“Damn shame what happened to that family. Were you a friend then?”  
“Something like that. I haven’t spoken to them in years. Do you remember what happened?” I asked.  
“Course I do. The talk from that never really died down. Once they died the plant closed and a lot of people lost their livelihood. They say the oldest boy went crazy on drugs, got the notion in his head one night to blow away the entire family one by one. I heard the middle girl lived, but nobody has seen her since her release from the hospital. She’d be about your age now...” He said squinting at me.  
Dean walked up and threw his arm around my shoulder. “Childhood playmate of my wife here. Haven’t spoken since they were kids, right Sweetcheeks?” Dean eyed me up, warning me.

He steered me back towards the car on clumsy feet. There was a hollow place where my heart used to be, and the echo of that emptiness numbed me all the way down to my legs. There was a roaring in my head and I didn't know if I wanted to throw up or cry. “That’s not really your family there? You know that right? Your brother is fine somewhere because of you. He’s living a happy apple pie life with the rest of your family.”, Dean said..  
He turned around and looked at me and he was close enough that I could see the flecks of brown in the green of his eyes..  
”It’s going to be ok. You’re going to get thru this. There’s steel underneath that pretty face.”, Dean said..  
He held my forearms, pulling me into a tight hug that was only stiff for a second. After the shock wore off I hugged him back. After a few awkward throat clearings from Sam I stepped away and fuck it, hugged him too. I wasn’t really an affectionate person but I’d been alone so long now that at least they were here for this. It was like losing them all over again. We finally made our way to my family’s wooded property, where a shed was the lone building for miles. Not sure who it belonged to now, the boys picked the lock on the doorway and gestured for me to go inside. Everywhere else I visited had changed, parent's house had new tenants and my house clearly had a new family living inside. This was the only place that looked the same and I hoped maybe some small piece of my old life was intact. I hit the lights and stared. There it was, my red 1968 Chevelle that dad had built from the ground up. She still shined under a light coating of dust, less than I would’ve thought for ten years. .  
Dean ran an appreciative eye over her, a smile breaking across his face. “She yours?” he asked.  
“Yeah.” I whispered, almost thinking this was too good to be true. I got in the driver’s side to see a picture of me, Nolan, and Dad when we were small, pinned to the speedometer.  
“Keys?” Dean asked. I looked in the center console where I’d kept them before and there they were. I handed them off to Dean as I ran my fingers over the dash, remembering. I felt him pop the trunk and heard his low whistle. .  
”You might wanna take a look at this…” Dean said.  
Sam and I rounded to the rear, my jaw dropping. The trunk was full of Hunters gear, similar to the Impalas. On top of the guns I remembered owning there were a lot of new and somewhat questionable items, including a set of moleskin journals in flat black. I picked up the top one and flipped towards the end, where a message was scrawled in familiar handwriting in all capital letters-‘I DON’T KNOW IF I’LL EVER MAKE IT BACK HERE. IF NOT I HOPE BOBBY COMES LOOKING IN THE RIGHT PLACE AND FINDS THIS. BOBBY I HAD TO DITCH OUR FAVORITE RIDE, LEVIATHANS GETTING TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT. IT’S STILL IN PERFECT CONDITION FROM THE LAST TIME YOU FIXED IT UP SO NO BITCHING THERE. TAKE CARE OF MY BABY. I’LL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE.’

I kept staring at the words scratched out in my handwriting, the guys looking over my shoulder re-reading what I had finished. Sam took the journal from me as I started to grab up the other ones stacked beneath it, flipping thru them at random. I thanked my somewhat organized soul when I realized they were numbered, making it easy to start at the beginning.

I carefully placed them back in the trunk, inspecting the other items. To your immense relief there was a duffel bag with more clothes and personal items, including my St. Christopher medallion. Everything was so familiar that it eased the ache inside of me. .  
Sam gently placed the journal he had been inspecting back in the trunk and looked around. “Not much else here is there?” He commented. .  
He was right; except for the car the shed was empty. I wandered outside, a thought having occurred to me. When I reached the end of the shed I veered left and there it was. My brother’s grave. ”Nolan” I whispered, bending down to read the inscription. Below his name and the dates were the words-’ I know a place where the days are always sunny and the nights are full of wonders.-Beloved Brother’  
“Strange Quote” Dean said from behind you.  
“It was his favorite book. The Thief of Always. It’s about a house that eats children... I wouldn’t have put this up if I hated him.” I held my hand up to the stone, wishing it could speak back.  
“Well there’s something to be said for that. You ready to roll?” Dean asked.  
I didn't meet his eyes as I responded, “You sure you want me to come back with you? I could just pick up where she left off and never darken your door again. There’s money and transportation in there that gets you off the hook.”  
“No... were going to gank this ugly mother together. Then we can figure out the rest. Besides, Sam’s gotten used to having you around.” Dean grunted.  
“Oh, Sam, right.” I said. With that I picked myself up with a little hand from Dean and walked back the Chevelle in companionable silence. The ride back to Kansas was the most lighthearted I remembered being in a long time. I could buy cigarettes with my own money and blast that radio while sloppily singing along and not have to ride in the back like a prisoner or a kid. It also gave me some time to adjust in private to all the new developments over the past few days.

. I’d shorn my hair back into a pixie cut at the shed before I'd left, after the guys had taken off. I’d left that pile of hair lying on the ground along with the baggage that came with it. I knew it would just grow back again but it was good to look like myself again, my old haircut, and clothes that I had picked, everything felt so desperately normal. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I felt at home in my own skin and a Pink Floyd shirt again. The Chevelle growled exhaust as I hit the accelerator with a little more gusto. ‘Once more into the fray’ I thought.


	7. In The Wind

MAINE-  
He’d lost her trail in that parking lot. Once he cleared the forest, all three scents has dissipated with only the faintest of a waft to follow. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He’d felt so close, he’d been so sure that he’d catch up to her quickly. It should have been easier to track her in this world, where the stench of predators hadn’t filled his nose and clogged up his head. The need to hunt and kill had almost consumed him in that last plane; the longer he stayed there the harder it was to remember his purpose. The joy and thrill of an entire world built upon survival of the fittest was still a tremendous discovery for something like him. He wished he’d been able to stay long enough to kill the thing that had been helping her, but once he realized that she had managed to escape he’d wanted to stay on her heels as much as possible. He shredded some asphalt with his bare hands, imagining what he would’ve done. He was impressed by her will, at her ingenuity in deflecting him after everything. She made a worthy consort. Once she came around to his way of thinking. He wished that she carried the memory that same as he had, all the years separating them collapsing when he’d laid eyes on her again. But the human race was flawed, he understood that now. That memory to her was smoke; she had been reborn, without him, as a blank slate. Each new life brought a new version of her, one he'd had to retrain with weapons and the Hunt itself. This life had been hardest on you both, she hadn't taken to the fight easily, the sword and bow equally awkward in her hands, the training going more brutally because his frustration. The fire was there but none of the natural inclination. In her first life, the one he strove to recreate, she'd almost defeated him. But he needed her ready. He’d make her understand. All the training was harsh, but she improved, she could hold her own in the Hunt now and he'd always taken great care with her body afterward. 

THE BUNKER-  
Dean had been furiously texting his Mom. If anything was going to keep this tension from spiraling out of control it was his mother being back. He’d already tried unsuccessfully to talk Jody into a visit, after she'd helped him track down the police report on the woman who was getting under his skin. There had been traces of sulfur at the crime scene so he guessed it was no surprise that she’d found the hunting life. The pictures of her shot up in the hospital haunted him, she’d only been, what twenty? Twenty-one? Bobby must have picked up her case, as Dean had noticed one of his alias’s in the file as the agent in the field. At least that explained the swan song they’d found it her journal. He’d tried to get his hands on any of the rest of those but she’d growled at him when he tried. And that car, now obviously he was partial to Baby, but damn that Chevelle was right up his alley. Red was a little flashy but it fit, and there was something about keeping it they way her Dad had built it that made his chest feel tight. Dean understood legacies, knew how sometimes things became more than what they were, they were a monument, they were a memory made from steel. He’d even cleaned it, right next to Baby, till it shone as much as she did. He also took a peek under the hood and fine-tuned some things, seeing as how she’d been sitting awhile in storage. He wondered if he had met the girl in this universe with her name how things would have panned out. He wondered if she had as hard a shell as you did. Or if her eyes were the same shade in between grey and blue. He didn’t like the fact that he felt trapped again. It was like Michael and Lucifer all over. Just because some douche upstairs thought you two should run a white picket fence didn’t mean he had to tow the line.

He bought coffee creamer this morning. Girl stuff. He’d driven two towns over to find it and he’d put it in the fridge while no one was looking like some kind of lame coffee Santa, just because she had mentioned to Sam that it’s how she'd used to take it. And he’d sure enjoyed the hell out of the happy dance you’d done that morning when you found it. He’d told himself it was because he felt sorry for you, that it was his way of apologizing for being rude to you, for his double mint fucking you over in another freaking dimension. That still burned in his gut, the fact that he couldn’t even deny it. He’d seen what a broken world without Sam had done to him and even he’d been appalled. Like some coffee creamer was gonna make you square on that. But really he was starting to suspect that this had nothing to do with pity or making things square. The longer that she was there the more chafed he felt. He fucking liked her. He hadn’t expected that. But it was fun to pick on Sam together or have the impromptu sword fight they’d had with the surprisingly sharp decorations in the bunker. She’d even beat him to the Inigo Montoya joke he’d been lining up in case there was ever an occasion. There were times he felt she knew exactly what he was thinking, which was unnerving.

Even Cass had accepted her presence, observing her with a clinical eye before declaring that she was who she said she was. She’d offered to go thru the soul test where Cass played operation with her insides but he’d vetoed it. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer. They’d even taken her on a case, a small one in Kansas, routine salt and burn. She’d clicked into his life without a hitch and didn’t make an issue of it, and he resented the hell out of it. She hadn’t pushed the soulmate thing either, preferring not to talk about it at all. Even with Cass, who’d tried to be kind, she’d been terse on the subject. But he still felt that punch in his gut every time he touched her, even casually, bumping in the hallway or helping her when the sword fight had gotten out of hand and he’d nicked her arm. She'd been ferocious with a sword, something to keep in mind for the next hunt. After Cass’s visit even Sam had argued with him that you both were being stupid. That if he’d had a chance with Jessica again he’d take it. And now Sam had left you here. With her. Alone. To confront your issues he’d said. He was taking a siesta, whatever that meant. Dean had really made some strides on the drinking front recently but her presence had somewhat complicated that. It was easy when there were other things to do, a job to focus on. But today the day seemed like it was dragging on, no buffer for her and him to rely on. He’d started hitting the heavy stuff at noon, coffee was just making him jittery at this point and if he cleaned the cars again he’d start taking off paint.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked, looking at Dean quizzically. I missed having him around to talk to. I’d been wandering around the Bunker all morning, looking for cases some and eventually getting bored. Other than coffee that morning where Dean had stared at you like a science project without thinking you’d notice, you hadn’t seen either brother all day. 

“Well your new favorite brother is currently abandoning ship so we can work out our crap apparently.” Dean replied.  
“Oh fantastic, because what you and I need is another heart to heart right?”, I said.  
“Ok, I’m done with the whole mean girls routine here. I can adult for a while if you can.” Dean countered.   
“I am an adult, I’m not the one who gets bitchy all the time like I’m on my man period. I never know if this is going to be the moment that you choose to be civil or not.” I replied.  
“I’m not the only one running hot and cold Sweetheart. I thought you were going to bash me with that shovel in creepy grandmas grave." Dean said, cracking a small laugh after.  
“I may have thought about it. But you did mock me... and shoved a rotting teddy bear covered in dead old lady in my face.”, I said. Despite how pissed you’d been you laughed at the memory. That coffin had been packed with so many stuffed animals that at first you weren’t even sure there was a body. When Dean had offered you a souvenir of your first team effort, as gross as it was you had to admit it was kind of funny. Dean cracked a small smile at you, a fragile truce seeming to form.

“You wanna get outta here?” Dean asked, offering you an olive branch. “We could hit a bar, play some pool, do normal friendly like things. Not a date.” He was quick to add.  
“You know what, fuck it, yeah. It’d be nice to pretend for a few hours that the worse thing is losing at pool.”, I said.  
Well as it turns out I was better at pool than I remembered. I wiped the floor with Dean the first round and held my own the rest. We still walked away with him winning the majority but there was respect there.  
“A few more practice rounds spread out and you’d be a bona fide hustler like us.” Dean proudly exclaimed getting us yet another round of drinks. I could usually drink a decent amount but I had to admit, I was getting fucked up after a few. It was already dark and the bar was starting to fill up, I hadn’t realized how long we’d been here. Dean slung his arm around my shoulder in camaraderie and whispered in my ear, “Don’t look now but at two o clock there’s a guy giving you the silent how ya doin.” The close contact made me shiver; usually we were very careful to not touch, one of us always pulling away abruptly even when it happened accidentally.  
“Well maybe I’ll go over and buy that dude a drink.” I joked. “It’s not like I’m a nun right. I can have sex.“ I worried the edge of the lip with my teeth.  
His grip on my shoulder tightened fractionally and I winced.  
“Sorry.” He instantly dropped the hand. “Go have some fun at least.” The last part was colder, devoid of emotion. He turned his attention to the bartender whose boobs were in danger of leaping out of her shirt.


	8. Burnin for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference the the Blue Oyster Cult song- I know its been a slow build up, Enjoy ;)

I worked my way over to the guy with a small sigh. I shouldn’t even care what fucking Dean Winchester thinks. I shouldn’t be acting like there’s something more than chemistry on my part. I chatted with the guy, whose name was Mark, about small things, it was actually nice to have a normal conversation where the myriad of weird didn’t come up. It was pretty hard trying to explain who Dean was (cousin that was the best I could do) and what kind of life I had and where I lived without making it obviously a lie. Dean seemed to be making headway with the bartender, she’d slid him her number and god knows what else a few minutes ago. I decided to go outside for a smoke with Mark when Dean emerged like a freight train in the crowd.  
“Leaving so soon?” Dean drawled, eyeing me up. I rolled my eyes at his antics, saying nothing.  
“Hey I’m Mark” He said reaching his hand out to Dean expecting a friendlier reaction.  
Dean straightened up and proceeded to furiously pump his hand. “Dean... Sorry Matt I’m gonna have to steal our lovely mutual friend here away.” He dropped Mark's hand like a coal and grabbed my wrist propelling me away.  
“I thought you said he was your cousin.”, was the last I heard from Mark as Dean pushed me thru the front door. I stumbled on the threshold a bit from the force.  
“What’s your fucking problem!” I shouted at him ripping my hand away. I stomped towards where I knew the Impala was parked lighting another cigarette on the way. Dean caught up to me quickly, trying to force eye contact and failing. I flung off his arm with a hiss of impatience and thought about walking back to the bunker. I veered left to do just that when Dean headed me off, veering left, then right when I counter-moved, boxing me in. Ok so this ugly chat was happening. Dean faced me with arms spread, blocking me from escape and tried his damndest to freeze me with an exasperated glare.  
“I just think it’s adorable that a few weeks ago you were all like 'Dean's my soulmate' and now you’re trying to hook up with any guy who crooks his finger at you.” Dean accused.  
“For your information, asshole, I wasn’t going to hook up with him, not that it’s any of your business or that there would be anything wrong with that. I'll fuck who I like.” I said.  
“He had his hands on you. “ Dean looked murderous now. ”You had no idea who that guy was, he could’ve been a fucking serial killer and you were just going to go off with him?” I stomped off into the alleyway in which we’d parked.  
“Are you fucking kidding me Winchester?!!! Kind of the pot calling the kettle, dontcha think? ...This was a mistake.” I gritted out, “I should’ve never come here with you.” He spun me around, backing me up before pinning me to the brick wall of the alley, a hand slapped down against brick on either side of my head before dropping to my shoulders when I started to get defensive.  
“You’re right about that Sweetheart.” He grunted before savagely attacking my mouth. He tasted like whiskey and mint, the combination swirling on my tongue. His hands moved from my shoulders to my face, his long fingers wrapped around my jaw. He pressed up full against me, the long line of his body impressing to mine, the front of him scalding hot compared to the cold bricks. He skimmed his hands down my neck, the sides of my breasts, gripped my hips for a moment before moving around to get purchase on my ass, boosting me up against him in the air. My legs twined about him of their own accord as I kissed him back with all the pent up rage and hunger I felt. I kissed him so hard I tasted blood, his or mine I wasn’t sure. He eased back a bit, still holding me against the wall but now resting his forehead against mine while I tried to get my bearings. We were both breathing heavily and I felt his erection strain against me causing everything in me to tighten, needing relief. He had his eyes closed, and I wondered if he was regretting what was possibly the best kiss of my life. I shifted like I wanted down, getting a little embarrassed, but only managing to rub myself against him. His grip only tightened and without opening his eyes he said, “You taste like smoke and cherries.” He whispered.

My chest tightened at that. He sounded so lost. I cupped his face with my hands, but he still wouldn’t look at me. “I should’ve never come here Dean. I’m so sorry this got all messed up. I know you don’t want this. I’m not exactly thrilled either. I was always a fan of Team Free Will.” I joked even though it hurt me. He opened his eyes and stared so hard into mine I almost withered and his body turned to steel.  
“It’s too late now babe. For either of us. I’ve been walking around with a perpetual hard on and it’s making me a little on edge, but if you think I’d let you walk away after a kiss like that…” He claimed my mouth again, gentler this time, coaxing me into it, giving me plenty of leeway to say no or push him off me. I didn’t. It was slow and deep and it eradicated even the other Dean's finesse. He started to move against me, his jean clad dick rocking slowly against my crotch. I was instantly wetter in my jeans, cramping in desperation. I almost got off from that alone, it had been so long since I had been touched like this, it vibrated thru me like a tuning fork and it was too much and not enough all at once. Even end of the world Dean hadn’t gone this slow or deliberately. He edged me off the wall, carrying me still wrapped around him to the Impala.

He slid me down the front of his body achingly slow, setting my feet on the ground. He opened up the rear door and slowly backed me thru it, smoothly crawling over me while pulling off his shirt. He reached back and shut the door and began to work on my jeans as I reached for his, swiftly unbuttoning. We both went to fully remove our own pants rapidly, Dean falling over slightly in his haste. I snickered at this, causing him to crack a devil may care grin. He crawled back up, nipping at my legs and barely skimming near the apex of my thighs. Naked Dean was glorious, all scars and callouses, muscles bunched, and oh lord that V where his hips curved inward made my mouth go dry.  
“Getting shy on me?” He asked, fingering the hem of my shirt. I was naked except for that one piece, my last locked door. His fingers were already dipping below it as I fought the urge to cross my arms. He watched me, still being slowly insistent on the shirt removal.  
“I have something to tell you. It’s about what’s underneath here” I stuttered.  
“Oh trust me I want to see them.” Dean joked, trying to put me at ease.  
“Duh. They’re magnificent. I meant, well fuck you’re gonna see it anyway.“ I slowly removed my shirt, exposing my bra clad torso. In between my breasts up to almost the tip of my sternum was a black, withered tree being struck by lightning. It almost looked like a tattoo except it sat on my skin wrong, it looked sickly and unnatural. Dean reached out to touch it and I cringed.  
“What is it?” He asked softly, still reaching out but waiting for permission.  
“Its’s his mark. Gwynns.”  
“He branded you?!” Dean face twisted in rage. ”That sick son of a bitch.”  
I started to pull my shirt back on, ashamed. He hadn’t even seen all my scars and he was already appalled. He stilled my hands, slowly sliding the shirt to the floor.  
“There is nothing that would make me not want you, you know that right?” He bent down to kiss the mark softly, causing it to burn slightly. I didn’t tell him that.  
“Not this,” kissing the mark again, “not these,” kissing along the scars on my abdomen which were starting to finally fade a little, “these,” holding up my wrists and kissing the silver lines that circumference them, “ or any other mark or scar or anything. This is the roadmap of your life, written on your skin. These are the things you survived and I love them for that. It’s a victory, not a loss babe.” He kissed my mouth again and divested me of the rest of my clothing. He closed his mouth around my nipple, a slow gentle scrape of teeth made me almost crack my back arching up against him. When he entered me, his green eyes locked onto mine, his hand holding my leg out for better access, burying himself inside till our pelvises were flush. He filled me completely, already hitting a sweet spot. When he started to move he was unhurried, savoring the feeling of my body. It wasn’t long before I came around him, the combination of his thrusts and attention to my breasts with his hands and mouth causing me to fly over the edge. He captured my screams with his mouth, silencing me while continuing to move inside me.  
“That’s it babe. Come again for me.” He picked up the pace, eventually driving into me like his life depended on it as I rose up to meet him thrust for thrust. Sweat dripped down his forehead and chest as I lightly raked fingernails down his back. He sent me over the edge again just fractionally before he went himself, collapsing on top of me with a muffled curse that sounded like a prayer.

PENNSYLVANIA-  
He picked up a cigarette off the ground, his eyes screwed up with distaste. It still had her smell on it, even though it was just the barest trace. Another appalling habit she’d had that apparently he hadn’t broke her of. He flicked the offending item as far away from him as possible. He was headed in the right direction, after a few false starts this was a good trail. The hint of a smile ghosted his face before a crippling burning sensation brought him to his knees. Slight wisps of smoke started to rise of him as he began to rend his clothing from his chest. The sigil burned, flaring up like the lightening strike was an event instread of a portrayal; and for what seemed like hours he writhed in agony as it felt the very flesh was cooking off his ribcage. Finally it started to dissipate, fading back into his skin. It was still tender to the touch as he picked himself off the ground with barely suppressed rage. He had to hurry; sands were slipping thru the hourglass quicker than he’d thought and the urgency to find her was now a beat in his blood, the veins in his eyes darkening with purpose.


	9. Her Strong Enchantments Failing

THE BUNKER-  
I was trying to be cool about this. I could be cool about this. So what if Dean had fucked me on this counter last night where I was now pouring my coffee. And in the garage up against the wall when we’d finally gotten back from town. It’s not like I’d asked him to cuddle afterwards, I’d been fine going back to my room alone after that. He was right, that had been a better option, and I’d actually slept instead of constantly trying to get back on his dick. Some of my integrity is intact at least. I put my head in my hands as I over processed that.  
“Somebody tired?” Dean mocked from right behind you, edging his way closer to the coffee machine. You let a sly eye fall over Sam who was sitting at the table a few feet away, hoping your poker face had gotten better.  
“Your hair stopped growing.” Dean observed, teasing the ends of it with his fingertips. “Or did you ‘In the Army now’ it this morning?”  
You reached a wild hand up to touch it, for the first time realizing that it hadn’t grown multiple inches as you slept. Sam looked up at Dean’s comment, his brow scrunching up puzzled.  
“I haven’t cut my hair since yesterday morning.” I said, awed.  
“Maybe your little ‘Interview with a Vampire’ trick is finally wearing off? Or the Joker has stopped chasing Batman?” Dean joked.  
“It’s got be a little more complicated than that Dean. Maybe the wards I’ve been putting up are working?” Sam was fully staring at you now. “I found a few things I thought might help so I tried out a few last night while you were out. Do you feel any different, anything change?” He got up and moved toward you, studying you like a puzzle.  
“Yeah, anything change since yesterday?” Dean mocked, most of his face hidden behind his cup of coffee.  
“Uhhhhh, no?” I drew it out like it was a question.   
Dean’s face was unreadable but I didn’t really want to clue Sam in on our single serving sexcapades. Not that I was ashamed, but that seemed like a heavy topic considering the reason I was here in the first place. Dean had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want me turning him into Mr. freaking Rochester. Plus, as far as I was concerned, the soulmate business was dead, hooking up with a dude wasn’t the same as eternal love or whatever this was supposed to be. This running would go on forever and eventually I’d have to bail again, spit out into another new universe where there would be new problems and complications. Great now everyone was staring at me again.  
“Hey, anyone home?” Sam waved his hand in front of my face.  
“Yeah sorry, I was just thinking.” I lamely replied.  
“I said I think I’ve found another case for us.” Sam moved back over to the table where his laptop was set up. “Get this, in Pennsylvania somewhere off the turnpike; something tore thru a bunch of people. It took their eyes and filled in the sockets...”  
“With leaves. Silver leaves.” I said quietly, dread filling me.  
“It doesn’t say that they were silver.” Sam said knowingly.  
“It’s him isn’t it?” Dean asked touching your shoulder.  
“It’s Gwynn.” I confirmed. “We have to go there. He’ll have left a message on the bodies. “ The thought that this was on you permeated your thoughts.  
“No fucking way.” Dean burst out. “Oh Sweetheart you’re dumber than you look, this has trap written all over it.” I winced at his combative tone.  
“So, what, you’re going to hide me in the bunker forever? Great Plan.”  
“The plan is we keep you safe, period.” Dean shouted.  
Sam looked back and forth from me to Dean. His face changed as I saw it dawn on him.  
“Something you’re not telling me guys?”  
“Come on Sam, that’s not really the centerfold issue here.”  
“Centerfold, really? Freud was right about some things.” Sam sassed.  
“For fucks sake are we really going to middle school this? We had sex. We’re not exactly house hunting.” I bit out.  
“And neither of you thinks it’s interesting that after you got biblical, your hair stopped growing? Did anything else happen that, I don’t know, might be significant? “ Sam whirled on you now, “ This thing is killing people now, innocent people. Whatever Sweet Valley High shit you have going on is less important than stopping that, don’t you think?” he chastised. "Come clean and lets get this figured out and then the both of you can get back to not talking about your feelings, ok?!” “So I repeat… anything out of the ordinary?”  
“I…have a Mark…here;” I said haltingly, pointing to my chest. “Gwynn’s mark. Last night, it burned for a minute. When I woke up today, it seemed...lighter? I guess?”  
“So you noticed a visible change?” Sam inquired.  
Dean was looking at you incredulously, his mouth hanging open slightly.  
“It was more of a feeling, which is why I didn’t mention it. I did get laid last night which would also contribute to the overall sense of well-being. “  
“Yeah you did,” Dean cheekily observed, mouthing ‘Three Times’ at you behind Sam’s back.  
“You ever think that this is exactly what the worst case scenario was Dean? What are you going to do ride off into the sunset? You just put a giant bullseye on your back for the fucking fairy boogeyman. And you,” he said with exasperation and condensation looking right at me, “you knew this was going to happen. Destruction has been following in your wake in every universe you visit like a supernatural tsunami and you just made my brother the epicenter.."  
“Sam, I didn’t mean…” I started to reach out and dropped my hand at his expression.  
“You never do. Do you?” Sam cut me off.  
“Easy Sam, that’s a little harsh.” Dean protested, but you were already on your way out, stiffly walking to your room.   
“It needed to be harsh Dean. There is no soulmate mojo. That’s crap and you know it. This has to be some kind of geis or curse that needs to be broken.”  
“Look I’m not saying that I’m leaning towards retrievers here Sammy. But I don’t know, there’s something there. And after all the shit that girl's been thru, I’m sure this isn’t her fault. Whatever bad decisions she’s made, she’s paid for, believe me. Tenfold. And having you shitting on her isn’t going to change a damn thing. For her or me. If this thing is something pulling at me like Amara, then we’ll unravel it. Nobody wants this thing to be over more than her. She’s on board, trust me. ”  
“We’ll see Dean. For now just keep it in your pants ok? At least until we figure this out. I don’t want you falling any farther down the rabbit hole than you already are.”  
I threw everything I owned into the duffel bag on my bed and headed for my car, taking the long way around and avoiding the kitchen where I’m sure they were having a Super Mario Brother moment bonding over their suspicion of me. I realized that I was bad fucking news. I should have left before now, shit I should’ve left when we’d found my doppelgangers stash. There hadn’t been any more reasons to stay that weren’t selfish. I was better on my own, faster and colder than I had been with the Winchesters. I thought about all the times I’d obsessed over that show with a sarcastic laugh. I was just projecting that impossible hero trope on a real guy in this universe. Sure I knew more about him than most because I’d been offered a glimpse into him and his brother’s life thru lens of fiction but that didn’t make me special. And it sure as hell didn’t make us soulmates. I was just living out a fantasy. I threw my shit into the backseat of the Chevelle and headed for Pennsylvania on my own.

“She’s not porno sleeping beauty Sam.”  
“Dean you slept with her and it changed things! That’s textbook spell breaking if you ask me! You have no idea what the side effects might be!”  
“Well I didn’t ask you!”  
“Pretty defensive for a guy that usually doesn’t even remember their names Dean.”  
The sound of the garage alert going off broke up their conversation.  
“Damnit!” Dean yelled; him and Sam rushing to head you off at the pass. By the time they reached the garage you were gone.  
You used one of your fake ID’S you found in the trunk as well as the pantsuit you despised to get into the crime scene, and finally the morgue. You started uncovering bodies clinically when you heard voices and the large metal doors being pushed open.  
“Agent, some of your colleagues are here to combine forces on this serial killer.” The morgue attendant seemed overworked and like he couldn’t wait to get out of there.  
“Super.” You replied when he was already on his way out. You were getting the double bitch face at maximum capacity.  
“You’re missing the slave bikini.” Dean began. “If you’re going to throw yourself to Jabba the Hut you need that slave bikini.”  
“I’m not throwing myself at anyone today, thanks. “ You shot back. “Besides, I found something.”  
You finished pulling off the rest of the covers on the bodies, pushing them to line up the gurneys in a specific order. There was writing carved into each, one long paragraph for each of the three victims.  
“I don’t read Dothraki.” Dean quipped.  
“Its fairy writing isn’t it?” Sam asked, somewhat bashful.  
“It’s fae alright.” You replied certainly.  
“You can read this?” Sam asked in wonder.  
“You spend enough time in a place that never changes wondering when you’re going to be almost raped to death, you look for ways to pass the time Sam. “  
“I’m sorry.” He immediately emphatically responded. “I just knee jerk reacted earlier and…”  
“Forget it.” You said, all business. “It’s your brother.”  
“So what does it say?” Sam asked, not wanting to push his luck.  
“It’s a poem. By Housman.”  
“A freaking poem? I though this guy was supposed to be scary, not writing you disgusting love letters from grade school.” Dean sarcastically emphasized.  
“ The fae love poetry. Its one of the only redemptions of our race to them. This one goes-  
Her Strong Enchantments failing,  
Her towers of fear in wreck,  
Her limbecks dried of poisons  
And the knife at her neck,  
The Queen of air and darkness  
Begins to shrill and cry,  
‘O young man, O my slayer,  
To-morrow you shall die.’  
O Queen of air and darkness,  
I think tis truth you say,  
And I shall die tomorrow;  
But you will die today.”  
“’Is that a threat?” Sam asked, looking at you without malice.  
“I think it’s safe to assume so.”


	10. Woman of Letters

April 24, 2006  
It’s my birthday. For a while I didn’t think I’d have another one. I should be out getting wasted with my friends celebrating right now. Not sitting at a grave in the rain. Bobby told me I needed to start writing things down. That it would help with the nightmares. I don’t know how to explain to him that they aren’t just about my brother. About the thing he became. Possessed is what Bobby said. A demon. And those dreams come more often than I’d like.   
But it’s not those dreams that scare me. Not anymore. I made my peace with that as best I could. I’m still alive, and as long as I am I’m going to try to stop as many of these things from messing up other people’s families like they did mine.   
When I was in a coma I had a dream that keeps coming back to me. I’m older. I’m trapped in a white room odd writing on the walls and my blood smeared between my thighs. I ride a horse that breathes flame and I'm chained to the lead. I desperately hope that whoever rides beside me doesn’t turn and face me. I keep flogging the horse on faster, trying to break out in a dash to put him behind me. When I finally do he’s still so close I can feel his horse’s breath on my back. And it sounds like he’s laughing. 

I re-read the excerpt from the journal again, my hands shaking. I finally mustered up the courage to go thru them in my hotel room after my shower; trying to avoid the team meeting I knew was coming. Damn, I was even ruining my alternate self’s life from worlds away; that takes talent, I thought miserably. 2006, I would’ve been, what twenty-one? Jesus. I was having quasi-prophetic dreams about real me’s future imprisonment. I thought about my own 21st birthday, throwing up in some bushes outside the Cardinals stadium. I walked outside, needing some air and face planted into Dean holding coffee. To his credit he saved the coffee and it didn't end up all over me. 

"Coffee." He grunted. I peered at the cup distrustfully. I'd gotten used to having my creamer around so it was going to be harsh drinking it black, but coffee was coffee. I took a sip and stared at him quizzically, realizing that it had been doctored to my exact specifications.

"Yes I brought your girly coffee stuff. Don't go waxing poetic on me." He grinned at me trying to maintain the levity. 

"I would never." I replied holding up the scouts honor gesture. The door to my room was still open, I shut it with a soft click and lit a cigarette. I was still holding the journal and tried to be nonchalant about it. 

"Don't trust yourself?" He asked, nodding his head toward the door. 

"I don't trust either of us at this point." I said..

"What's that?" he asked, reaching for the journal. I handed it to him with a sigh. Secrets were part of what messed this up to begin with. Dean read the part you'd bookmarked, his eyebrow raising at you over the edge. Sam came out of their room which was two down from yours and headed your way. 

"Check it out." He handed the journal to Sam. Sam perused it, his face drawn together.

"Wait the timeline here doesn't make sense. For the most part you've been on the same, well stream. This is what, 11 years ago?"

"I have no idea." I said miserably.

"Well, you're the same right? I mean really you're the same person, just a few doors down. Maybe other you got a small window to see what was going to happen. They talk about how your life flashes before your eyes with you are on the edge of death. Maybe that's what this is, her seeing you when she was in the coma." Sam said.

"So she's shot up in the hospital and turns into Miss Cleo?" You could always trust Dean to keep a hilarious perspective. 

"Well it makes sense. I was in a coma, what else did I have to do? Plus its not like what happened to me was natural." I said.

"So what now?" Sam was looking at you.

"Well I don't know if you noticed, but those bodies got dead at the same gas station we stopped at on our way back to the Bunker the first time." I said.

"How do you know that?" Dean asked. Sam sighed, exasperated. He had also noticed the coincidence. At his look Dean defended, "They all start to look the same."

"Because I bought cigarettes here for the first time in decades." And smoked them staring at your ass, I didn't say outloud. 

"Have you gone thru the rest of these?" Sam asked flipping thru the journal. I cringed thinking about my privacy, but realizing that I was running out of options. I knew she wasn't me technically, but damn we wore the same bras.

So we ended up in my room, reading thru dead me's journals for most of the night. Sam and Dean had both commented on the fact that they didn't know that I drew, each journal having multiple illustrations every few pages. Dean got stuck on calling me Picasso until I started throwing pillows at him. 

May 9, 2008  
My grandmother died today. It was so windy outside the hospital, howling around me like it was grieving too. I'm afraid Pop won't last without her. He told me that she was the love of his life, that the whole world had gone gray without her. And there we were, the last two, trying to hold it together like it was still possible.  
There was a small drawing of an elaborately carved box that I recognized from my own grandparents house. They'd picked it up traveling in Russia when I was a little girl. There was a letter addressed to me in the box, and a flat face oval ring with a weird symbol engraved into the face. It was fragile and old, worn thin from being taken out again and again and refolded. She explained that the letter was written after the tragedy with my family. She said she was sorry that she couldn't have explained things to me sooner. That she hadn't known the full extent of Nolan's symptoms so she had been too late to diagnose the problem. She had been afraid to tell me after that and I had been gone so long, so sparsely communicating that she was worried it would drive me father away. She said the ring was hers, it had been in her family for generations. That we were Women of Letters and no terrible thing could keep us down forever.

A few tears slipped down my checks at that. My grandmother had been a hell of a woman and I still missed her everyday. She'd died on the same day in this world too. I flipped to much later on in the book not wanting to dwell on that.  
September 2008  
Back at Bobby's. He didn't ask any questions about where I'd been, just sent me out on hunts he'd dug up and had me answering phones when I was back. I've stopped recording the normal hunts, there's nothing new to learn. The last Hunt tore up the Chevelle pretty good, werewolf had clawed it up before I'd put him down. But Bobby was working on her and he promised she'd be back to new in no time. I traded him some charms I'd picked up for the favor. The dreams seem far away here, there's too much familiar ground at Bobbys and I suspect some occult help in that department as well. At one point Bobby got a call that made him so pissed and upset he asked me to clear out, sending me to Florida for voodoo problems in Miami. I'd overheard enough to give him the eye, but what could I say to him? Dead was dead. Nobody came back from that and the fact that someone was messing with Bobby didn't sit right with me. But I can't force him to let me in.  


I looked up at Dean, whose gaze was burning a hole in my forehead. His face was drawn and pale; his mouth sliced in a painful line. He snapped the book closed and got up to walk outside, rubbing his face with the back of his hand. Sam got up and paused, looking at you, his face torn. He shook it off and followed his brother outside. I couldn’t concentrate on anything I was reading after that so I just flipped thru the book in my hand, recognizing several illustrations from my travel through some of the less painful worlds. I was still amazed that this other version of me had seen my path so clearly. I got up and looked out the window, as some time had passed and I saw Sam and Dean leaning against the Impala, Sam, getting more agitated and gesturing emphatically. Dean’s head hung down like he was being scolded. Sam’s gaze snapped up to mine, locking in and his face went softer, which was surprising. I went to move back from the window when I noticed that he was headed my way. The door opened and closed quietly and Sam sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees. I faced him in the chair opposite, waiting for another outburst like the one in the bunker that had gotten us here.  
“Have you read all the journals?” He asked.  
“No, actually I’ve been avoiding them. “  
“Why?”  
“Man I know this seems less weird to you but I’m already wearing her clothes. I figured I owed her a little privacy. Like we’re the same, but we’re not, you know?”  
“I get it.” Sam looked like he was at a loss for words.  
“Sam, what is it?” I asked delicately.  
“There are things in there, things about…hell. About Alastair. Dean wouldn’t give me the whole story because he said it wasn’t his to tell. Like we’re not reading your journals like creepy brothers already.”  
“Hell…that has Hell in it?” I winced and turned away. I couldn’t look at him now.  
“Among other things.” Sam spoke deliberately, “Like your time with the hunt.”  
“Jesus.” I moaned.  
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam coaxed. “Why didn’t you tell Dean?”  
“I don’t need a pity party Sam.”  
“But…”  
“I didn’t need you guys to look at me the way you’re looking at me now. I’m fine. I made it out. What else is there to say about it?” I said.  
“You need to talk to him.” Sam cut me off from arguing. “He doesn’t need to carry this. He needs to hear it from you. For what I said before, I’m sorry. I was worried about your angle, but not anymore. Honestly I think you both could use a little peace for what its worth.” Sam picked up the journal Dean had left. “I’m gonna finish this one of that’s ok.”  
“As long as we don’t have to talk about it.”  
He looked at me with a mix of pity and empathy.” Only if you want to or if it pertains to the case.”  
I got up and moved outside where Dean was already nursing a beer and the aura of normalcy.  
“I’m guessing Sam got you to come out here and give me the famous Winchester ‘It’s not your fault’ speech. Save it.”  
“Well my job here is done.” I whirled around like I was going to leave and paused.” Its not though.”  
“That sonofabitch wore my face when he cut on you. I think that makes it personal.”  
“That’s Hell Dean, not you. I get the whole ‘Nam flashback thing, but this wasn’t you.”  
“It could’ve been. It’s not like it hasn’t been in the past.”  
“Well I broke in less time than you, does make me evil?”  
“NO! GODDAMNIT WHY IS THIS SO COMPLICATED?” He threw the glass beer bottle against the parking block, shattering it. “He said if we were soulmates, he’d like to see if we were the same, he put you thru the same exact things because of me. You’d never have been there if it weren’t for me.”  
“I think I would have ended up there anyway Dean. Gwynn was never going to have what he wanted. Hell might have broken me, but never bad enough for that. This isn’t on you, it’s on him.”  
“That sick fuck…the things that were in there…about him…and you…and what happened when the Hunt wasn’t running…”  
“I know.” I said with finality. “I lived it.”  
“How could you even…with me…”  
“Because I realized it wasn’t you. That I had to move on with my life. That I wouldn’t let him take this from me too.”  
“I’m sorry.” He looked at you directly then, naked pain in his eyes, his arms dangling uselessly like he didnt know what to do with them.  
“Don’t be. All these things have made me. I’m more now than I ever was because I survived.”

He crossed over to me purposefully and kissed me. He kissed me with all the helpless rage and sorrow he had. It was an apology and a welcoming all at once, both fierce and gentle. His hands drew over my scars on my arms, worshipping. He pulled back and his eyes were wide and his expression was naked. He hugged me then, engulfed me tight like I was going to float away and I was surrounded by that particular smell that was all Dean. As fucked up as everything was, as everything would always be, I was somehow still surprised at how well I fit there. How right that moment felt despite everything.  
I started to panic a little, and reading it in my eyes Dean tightened his grip, “You’ve never been a runner Sweetheart, don’t start on me now.”  
I looked up at him annoyed.  
“That face, there it is. The trademark go fuck yourself look.” Dean laughed. “If I wasn’t currently bunking with my brother, who is now in your room messing that avenue up, I'd make this a little less PG. You’re a lot less crabby about this when I’m moving over you.”  
“Dean, I don’t even know if I'm going to stay here..”  
“Don’t even start that crap with me. We both know you’re staying. You don’t like us in the line of fire any more than we do. If there was a way for you to cut us out completely, you’d have done it. Great minds think alike. “He pointed back and forth from you to him. “Besides, if Tinkerbell was right, you need help to get this guy off your case permanently.”  
Suddenly I collapsed, the Mark was burning again and this time it was excruciating. Deans worried face was the last thing I saw before I passed out.


	11. Disposable Heroes

KANSAS-  
Gwynn ap Nudd stood at a crossroads. He’d dug up a small tin container with interesting contents. The face of Lucifer’s vessel looked up at him from the plastic sheeting. At least he knew who the other scent belonged to now. He’d seen heroes before. Most crumpled like dried leaves before him, despite all the ballads written about their bravery. None could live up to the lofty ideals described in songs. He loved the dreams of the human race, fragile wispy things that were easily broken. He’d cut a bloody path thru the best of them for thousands of years, never slaking the need to eradicate. His fists curled even now in memory and his face curved in a cutting smile. He was close, in their hunting grounds. He could feel it is his bones.  
“Can I help you?” A man appeared behind him, momentarily startling the fae even though he betrayed no trace of it.  
“I need no assistance.” Gwynn studied him with interest, the tailored suit, all black, and the aura all wrong. Menace emanated off him much like Gwynn himself.  
“Then why are you sending shockwaves thru my crossroads?”  
“Who are you undead thing?” Gwynn realized there was something simmering beneath the skin. Demon. Of course.  
“Crowley, King of Hell. Who the bloody hell are you?”  
“Gwynn.”  
“You’re the git who’s been playing in my playground then? My boys had a hard time figuring out who’d taken up imminent domain in a small piece of my hell. Do me a favor and stay to your own realm Tink. Run along home now.” Gwynn carried the force of the Hunt inside him, a chaotic tornado leased to a will. He looked inward and let it go. Crowley went flying, the subzero blast disintegrating parts of his flesh even before he landed hard on the asphalt. Crowley looked up with blood red eyes, hate burning out at Gwynn before he vanished. Gwynn leased the soul of the Hunt again; slowly gathering it up from the air and tucking back within, but before he could finish the burn began. Slow at first, he initially thought it was because he’d unleased the Hunt while maintaining such a distance from its physical manifestation. When the pain didn’t abate but grew, he worried in a detached way. Then, like the force of the Hunt itself, the pain unfolded into a bright endless array of sensation, a flower of fire blooming on his chest, blacking out the world..  
THE BUNKER-.  
Dean had been up for what seemed like days. He existed in a fugue state, never sleeping for more than a few stolen hours when his body eventually shut down. Sam brought food he didn’t eat and booze he didn’t drink. She hadn’t even moved, hadn’t breathed. They’d had to remove her shirt when it had caught fire causing a mess in the hotel room. The mark had glowed, a mocking half-light in the Impala as she’d laid next to him unconscious on the drive back. It nursed the embers, ashes floating up in a lazy mocking dance. The roots of the tree had started to fade back, sinking into a light brown stain, like a birthmark. Sam watched him like a hawk, worried. Dean got up to get more coffee, fighting the urge to drop the façade and go to whiskey. 

“Cass!” Dean exclaimed, seeing him coming thru the front entrance of the bunker.  
“Dean, I came as soon as I could.”  
“Better late than never. Get your halo warmed up, we need to know what’s going on.” Dean forgot the coffee and headed straight back.  
Cass looked her over, noticing the pallor and unnatural stillness. “She appears deceased.” He started to smell the air around you until Dean gave a frustrated grunt.  
Dean started to protest, but Cass cut him off, “I said appears Dean. I think it may be time for that closer look.” Cass rolled up his sleeves and reached out his hand into your abdomen, a bright light emanating from the entry point. He held it there, a puzzled expression on his face. When he finally extracted his hand, his face was grave.  
“She’s alive. Somethings holding her here.”  
“Like this?” Dean pointed at the tree mark. Cass examined it a little closer, reaching out to touch the edges.  
“The best I can tell is this is some kind of lock. Like the Mark of Cain. Her soul is locked to her body…and to something else. There is a foreign presence there I’ve never seen before.”  
“Foreign like fairy?”Sam asked. “Could it be a locking spell like Meg did to me?”  
“Similar, yes. But not the same. Whoever has done this has actually embedded a piece of themselves into it. Her body is rejecting that, causing the effects. I can try to treat the effects? Suppress her immune system and bypass several others so she’ll be conscious.”  
“Do it.” Dean said without hesitation.  
“It will only be temporary. Like an infection, the source will have to be removed.”  
“Did you find anything out on the Fae?” Sam asked.  
“Precious little other than rumors unfortunately.”  
“Haven’t you guys been around, well, since the lights came on? How don’t you know anything?” Dean asked aggravated.  
“What rumors?” Sam interrupted.  
“Well the oldest Fae are very old, they predate even me. Some say they are the offspring of angels and demons. Others that they are Amaras creation or one of God's first attempts. The only consistent information was that they lack souls, which is why they have almost infinite lifespans.”  
“Almost, so they can be killed?” Sam inquired.  
“Very rarely, but there have been rumors of one of them being killed.”  
“So what’s their poison? Silver? Iron?” Dean spit out.  
“While these things will weaken them, it won’t kill.”  
“There’s a few things I’ve found,” Sam began hesitantly.  
“Great, let’s get those.” Dean jumped in.  
“Like the spear of Longinus. Or a weapon made by Luchtaine, an Irish god. Or the sword of Cu Chulainn.”  
“So a bunch of Indiana Jones toy prizes? That’s all we’ve got?” Dean sputtered.  
“The lore is all the same on this Dean. One hero plus one supercharged weapon equals one dead fairy. If they win. Which most of the time they don’t.” Sam explained. A grim silence fell on the three of them.  
“Well let’s get fixing. The only person in this room that knows more about this than us is in a fucking coma right now.” Dean rationalized.  
Castiel did what he could, his angel power glitching by the end of their session.  
“She’ll wake up in a few hours. After that I don’t know how long it will last.”

I dreamed about things I didn’t remember. Things that weren’t a part of my personal history for once. I knew I was out, which was nice, but where these dreams had come from, I had no idea. Ancient battlefields littered with broken bodies. A small cottage in a green glen. Long dark brown hair in my fingers. There seemed to be nothing linking these, no timeline or narrative that could be followed. Just moments. A terrible pain, a terrible feeling of betrayal. My own face, different but the same.  
I woke up in a forest that made me think I was back in Purgatory, but the trees were wrong. I couldn’t tell you what was wrong about them, but they seemed almost sentient. I walked until I found a clearing where there was a perfectly normal looking shed where a tall built man was working, sawing on a dead tree. He looked perfectly normal, jeans and all, but I saw a peek of a pointed ear and knew better once I got close. I just waited then, knowing if I took off I’d just end up back here, in this clearing.  
“Quicker than you look.” He observed, not looking up.  
“I really don’t enjoy walking in circles.”  
“My brother does. I wonder if that’s why you are doing it? Because at a cellular level you oppose him? Curious really.” He remarked with a laugh. “That’s all this dance with you is. An eternal loop he runs, much the Hunt itself, endless chasing a quarry.”  
“Gwynn is your brother.” It was a statement not a question and the tone contained all the loathing I held.  
“Yes. We've met before, you and I. In your first life. What a thing you were, savage and fiery. You even trained Cu Chulainn on the Isle of Skye."  
“So reincarnation, that’s a thing?”  
“Of course, your God didn’t make an endless supply of you. Numerous as you are. Its sad really, you are so much more than you are in this particular life.”  
“So why the reunion? I’m assuming you don’t want to invite me to the family. How did you even get me here?”  
“You wear my family’s crest. The rowan tree is in all our symbols, its links us. I just pulled on the string. As for the welcoming, you are always welcome here, craftsman. All who create touch on the well. My brother thinks he loves you. ”  
“Wow I’d hate to see what happened if he despised me.”  
“How terrible it is, I think, to love something that death can touch. Even these trees, which I love as my own, eventually pass from this world and I give them new life. I grieve them each as a friend in my way.”  
“Which is why you don’t cut them before their time. This wood wasn’t cut; it was harvested from a fallen tree.”  
“Because love is without pain?” He sharply remarked.  
“No. without cruelty.”  
“How young you are to think such a thing.” He said while putting aside his tools. “But I understand it seems cruel to you. “  
“Seems cruel?! I have literally been to Hell.” I shouted.  
“He has sought you out for thousands of years, through a multitude of lives, some so short he could do little but watch you die. It may have driven him a little mad. “  
I wisely kept my mouth shut at this point.  
“But I understand too that I cannot force the wood into the design I wish. It knows what it is, what it should be. I don’t shape the wood, I free it. For all our magic, our long lives, we cannot compel love, did you know that? It too cannot be forced, only freed.”  
“Well I wish he would get the message already. “  
He laughed musically before adopting a more somber tone. “You left him, in that first life. You grew older and he did not. You changed, he couldn’t. It the nature of such things, it’s what you were born for. You married a mortal man, a hero, a man who won you. This drove Gwynn to murderous rage and he cut you both down. “  
“The Queen of the Summerlands told me that Oberon killed Gwynn’s lover when he wouldn’t return to the Hunt.”  
“Oberon grew weary of the Hunt raging out of control. Gywnn laid siege upon the human world, cutting down heroes, men of renown in a perpetual vengeance. To uproot the Hunt is to reset its purpose, in the Summerlands its fury was dampened, its power shackled. Gwynn could no longer pull it from its moorings for his personal vendetta.”  
“Why are you telling me this?”  
“I thought that finding you would mend Gwynn’s heart. That it would reset his purpose too. I was wrong; you beat inside him as a poison. Our world, like yours, depends on a balance of things. Gwynn must ride with the Hunt.”  
“So take this fucking Mark off of me.”  
“I can’t.. It’s etched in your very soul, even if you manage to break his hold it will leave a metaphysical scar. But if you manage to break the bond between you I can close him off to you.”  
“How?”  
“The Hunt will never ride your current world again. All paths converge here, in my domain. I'll seal it against him and you. You will never wander the realms again.”  
“And I’ll never go home either.” The ache was deep, but it was still there. The tiny bit of hope I'd held onto, that I might eventually be able to make it home, was snuffed.  
“Everything must be paid for.” He wiped away a tear I didn’t know I was shedding, keeping it suspended on his finger.  



	12. Some Kind of Monster

When I woke I was alone. I recognized my hasty exit from the bunker so I must be in my old room. My chest still hurt but it was detached, behind a wall. I got up on wobbly legs and wandered out looking for coffee. Team Free Will was hunkered in desks in the Library, dozens of books and files spread out before them. When I entered the room Castiel and Dean stood up.  
“How are you feeling?” Cass said slightly above monotone.  
“Like someone tried to deep fry me.” I held up a hand when I could see that disturbed them. ”I’m fine, really.”  
“You look like Hell.” Dean observed.  
“Flatterer.” I drolly replied.  
I moved on to the kitchen and I was pouring the first cup of the thing that was going to resurrect me when Dean came in. He checked my forehead amidst protest and pulled my shirt up to inspect the mark.  
“Hey!” I shouted hoarsely. “A little warning when you’re going to take my shirt off would be nice.”  
“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”  
“Granted but it wasn’t an all access pass brochacho.”  
“I did a lot more than look last time too.”  
I eyed him over my coffee silently warning him.  
“In fact, if memory serves I did more right on this counter…” Dean boxed me in, my blood already thrumming.. “Wanna play Doctor?”..  
“As appealing as that sounds I’m prolly gonna need a shower and about a gallon of coffee before I’m ready for round two Dr. Sexy.”.  
Dean picked me up in the air causing me to spill coffee everywhere. As I sputtered he nuzzled my neck, running his teeth along the soft shell of my ear as he set me gently on the edge of the counter.  
“If you think there’s ever a time that I am not gonna want you…unshowered, covered in blood, whatever. None of that shit matters. I thought you died today. You weren’t breathing.” He whispered reverently as his hands rubbed up and down my hips. “Don’t you ever do that again.” His grip tightened, like he could forcibly hold me to this world by sheer force of will. When he finally kissed me it was achingly slow, his tongue sweeping in lazily. My hands crept under his shirt, feeling his back tense. He was surprisingly smooth; I already had more scars than him. He moved against me when I lightly ran my nails down his spine and he kissed me more urgently. I slithered out of his grasp while working on his belt buckle, dropping to my knees on the tile. I smoothed his pants down his legs enough for me to gain access but not enough for him to move. He looked at me thru hooded blazing green eyes, his jaw clenched tight in anticipation. I teased the tip of his dick with my tongue, causing him to throw his head back. As I kissed down the length of it I wet my hand to work the base, and then I took him into my mouth. I slowly worked him in and out, adjusting my head and swirling my tongue over the tip when he withdrew. The measured thrusts gave way to rapid ones when Dean started to lose control, holding my hair loosely when he came into my mouth as he cried my name. I’d never really enjoyed giving blow jobs, I’d always felt inferior and strange, but I’d never felt more comfortable or powerful than I did in that moment. He staggered a bit, causing me to laugh good naturedly and sling an arm around his shoulders helping support him.  
“Laugh now Sweetheart; let’s see how well you walk after I do that to you.” He darkly promised, pulling up his pants slightly so he could move and reaching for me.  
“Dude, this is the kitchen, as in where we eat.” Sam admonished .  
“Cockblock.” Dean grunted.  
“Get a room. I don’t wanna see your Boogie nights remake.” Sam cheekily replied.  
“The kitchen is a room. And you’re not invited.” Dean clipped back.  
I refilled my coffee trying not to laugh. . I was in deep shit here. Deep feeling shit..  
“Mom’s back.” Sam dropped that bomb so casually that I choked on the drink I was taking. Dean gave me an indecipherable look before returning to his brother..  
“Like back back?”.  
“Like I’m glad she didn’t walk in here first. Things have been weird enough for her.”.  
“Well lucky for all of us I’ve already gotten the birds and bees talk.”.  
“But apparently you missed the one on manners.” Mary Winchester strolled in, I assumed she’d heard most of the conversation so I blushed about nine kinds of red and concentrated on my coffee..  
“I’m Mary.” She held out her hand to me while Dean made hasty introductions. She shrewdly eyed me up while I levelly met her gaze. It was kind of bizarre, she didn’t seem that much older then me.

“I think we need a little girl time here.” Mary said. The boys milled about awkwardly until she gave them the eye and they dispersed.  
“So this is awkward.” She began, trailing off.  
“In a nutshell, look I don’t know what you heard back there…”  
“Enough.” One eyebrow quirked up exactly like Deans.  
“Look I know you’re still…adjusting. And this can’t be easy for you. But I’m not looking to ruin anything. I don’t see a white picket fence here.”  
“Good. Because when you try to pretend you’re something you’re not good people get killed. Trust me I know. Dean is my son. I want what’s best for him, and let’s be honest, that’s not you. You are dragging some dangerous baggage behind you and you’ve dumped it in their laps.”  
“I didn’t mean…”  
“No one ever does. I thought John would be safe. I thought the boys would be safe. But having me for his wife is what got John killed. I don’t want Dean to make the same mistake. “  
“Were not exactly planning a wedding here.”  
“I know my son,” she said with a smile that was still cold, “He has that look. He cares about you, maybe more than he’s willing to admit right now. But it’s there. And that caring is going to get him killed.”  
“I would never let that happen.”  
“You’d try. I believe that much. But this thing has been on your tail for how long? How many innocent people have been caught in the crossfire? Sam tells me that you’ve been running thru other worlds, how many people ended up six feet under?”  
“A lot.” I admitted.  
“So I’m sorry if I don’t want my son to end up as collateral damage. You’re poison.” She said with steel behind her voice, “And better for everyone if you lay in the bed you’ve made and don’t drag everyone else down with you. Do you understand me?”  
“Perfectly.” I was coldly detached now.  
“Good.” She got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone. Was this still the same room? Those few minutes had transformed it into an unwelcome place. I got up and joined the rest of them in the library where there was a discussion about how to handle the fairy boogieman. Mary was debating with Sam about the lore and I was surprised she knew as much as she did about it.  
“I’m saying they’re married. That’s what the mark means. Do we really need to get involved in a domestic dispute?” Mary argued. The room grew silent, Deans eyes cutting to mine.  
“Married. You’re married to that thing.” Dean was quietly furious.  
“Well it’s not like we made a trip to the courthouse Dean.” I clipped back.  
“It’s like a handfasting. There’s a blood exchange, words are said. “ Mary explained.  
“Yeah and then a forced branding before cake. I know the drill. I was there.”  
“And you never thought to explain this?” Dean looked dangerous now, moving into my personal space.  
“It’s not like it would have helped anything. I wasn’t 100% percent sure what happened myself.”  
“We said no more secrets.” Sam was serious now.  
“It wasn’t a fucking secret! I’ve been a little busy here. It’s not like you asked me for a play by play of everything. You read the fucking journals! I figured you saw it in there. ” I whirled around heading out of the room, to pack again for what was probably going to be the last time. I didn’t need this shit, and from the looks of things, I didn’t have a lot of time left. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew that whatever made me pass out was slowly creeping back. I felt like shit, the deep kind that wasn’t gonna get better. Whatever was going on between me and Dean, I couldn’t make him watch me die slow, trapped in this bunker in fear of the fucking boogieman. That’s shit you don’t get over. Better to leave when everyone could just feel pissed and justified. I’d just be another link in an incredibly long chain of people they used to know.

“Let her go Dean.” Mary reached out to her sons arm, lightly restraining him. “I think she needs a minute.”  
Dean placed both hands on the desk, shrugging off his mother’s touch and restraining the urge to throw things. Sam looked at him imploringly.  
“We need to have all the facts here Dean.” Sam rationalized.  
“Well I’m sorry a twitchy trauma survivor didn’t want to spill her guts to us. I wouldn’t have.” Dean exhaled as he realized this.  
“I think everyone’s emotions are just running high…” Mary began. She stopped when she saw Castiel enter the room. He eyed her quizzically for a minute before Dean addressed him.  
“Cass, great timing. Any news on the Mark or a spell from Rowena?”  
“I haven’t located information on Rowena. “ Cass concentrated on Dean. “Is she awake?”  
“Yeah, she’s been up for a while.” Sam answered.  
“I do have some information on the Mark. There are some ancient texts in Great Britain that are helpful. I think that has been the concentration of their entry to this plane. There are more accounts there of the Fairy than any other place in the world. “  
“Ok, so what’s the 411 on the Disney rejects?” Dean inquired.  
“Is it common for them to mix with humans, like romantically?” Sam asked awkwardly.  
“Very, in that part of the world there are hundreds of accounts of fairies taking human lovers. Marriages are unusual, however. They mostly just copulate with them until the human is exhausted. Marriages with their own people are also rare it seems. In this instance till death do you part is literal.”  
“So this divorce will literally kill her?” Sam was horrified.  
“In almost all cases. With some people the Mark is rejected by the human host. I assume this has been happening for some time. Not Many survive their souls being fractured.” Cass looked at Sam during his last statement.  
“But it can happen.” Sam was more confident now.  
“Numerically yes it is not impossible, just improbable.”  
“So how do we file for divorce?” Dean asked.  
“We don’t unfortunately. She does. It is somewhat obscure but it seems she has to find a new mate and mix blood with him and then cut the cord binding them. In order to maintain the marriage one party must maintain the cord between them so it never unravels.”  
“WAIT, Mom said this was like a handfasting right?” They looked around at Sam’s statement but Mary had left the room at some point during the conversation. Castiel looked at the door, a frown marring his face.  
“Yeah.” Dean finally said as Sam pulled up his computer.  
“So get this, according to this site, handfasting is a pagan ceremony that used to be a temporary marriage. The original ritual was to make a small cut to the wrists of the two people involved and then bind them together with a ribbon. Literally a handfasting.”  
“So they handcuff you to the other person, at least they were honest about what marriage was back then.” Dean joked.  
“So cutting the cord here means literally cutting the cord used to bind them in the ceremony. Gwynn must carry it on him to maintain it.”

“Let go give her the good news.” Dean tore his eyes from the computer and got up. Damn, he was going to have to take some heat for being a dick in there. He’d just reacted when he heard married, but he’d smooth it over. Besides it wasn’t like they were talking about commitment or anything. When he saw her empty room a dead feeling started in his chest but he didn’t panic yet. He picked up his cell and dialed..  
“You know I’m starting to think I’m a piece of meat.”.  
“Dean I had to go. This is getting out of hand.”.  
“Look I know I’m not the king of hookup etiquette, but sneaking out every time after we do the deed is really starting to piss me off.”.  
“It was a goodbye blow job. Mazel tov.” I cracked a smile despite myself..  
“Can you please just come back here so we can talk about this?”.  
“Talk about what? I appreciate everything you guys have done for me. Really. But it’s time for me to face this. It’s my mess and I’m not going to let anyone else get hurt. It’s just causing friction.”.  
“Me and Sam are fine. This is our job.”.  
“That’s right, I’m just a job.”.  
“That’s not what I meant. “.  
“I know. But can you honestly tell me this is going to end well? Who are we kidding? We had some fun. Now it’s over. “.  
“Oh just like that you just get to decide?”.  
“Yes. Free will, it is a bitch. Whatever this is, you’re getting caught up in it Dean. And your Hero complex is way too huge to let this go. But what happens when I get feelings? What happens if and when this is all over? What then?”.  
“We’ll figure it out.”.  
“Look, no offense, I don’t want to be that detour you took for awhile. Someone you left in the dust when things work out. And let’s face it, that’s best case. I'll figure this out and you guys can just go on with your lives. “.  
“Do you think you’re some kind of monster? This isn’t on you babe.” 

“That sounds about right actually. The monster bit not the rest. “ Mary Winchester wheedled behind me, sitting up in the back seat of the chevelle. She took the phone from me, hanging it up, the gun in her hand a huge motivator in handing it over.  
“What is your problem? I’m leaving just like you wanted.”  
“We’re taking a little trip to visit your poor abandoned husband. He misses you terribly you know.”  
“Gwynn got to you didn’t he. What did he do to you?”  
She laughed. “Not what you’re obviously thinking. No, he only has eyes for his precious WIFE.”  
“He kissed you.” I knew what that could do. It took time and a whole lot of willpower to shake and until you did you were a sopping mess. It never lasted, and the more he did it the more immune you grew, but for a short period you’d do anything for that piece of shit. 


	13. Fire of Unknown Origin

October 2011  
SIOUX FALLS, SD  
There are monsters everywhere. It’s getting harder and harder to lay low long enough to sleep. I keep writing all this down like I can warn myself; like I can stop the terrible things I see at night from coming true. I thought for the longest time that I was crazy. But then I saw him yesterday. The man from the dreams. Not the monster. The man I’ve heard about for years from other hunters. From Bobby. Dean Winchester. I was pulling into Bobby’s and there he was, his face turned towards me for a second as he drove away. That face was so familiar to me I froze, forgetting to turn the wheel enough and I scraped up the side of the Chevelle. Bobby just shook his head at me when I got out of the car, having seen the whole thing. But I knew that face. I’d seen it while I was asleep and it was the only peace I had at night. It was disconcerting, like looking into another world where I didn’t belong. I knew then that somehow this other me would come here. I wonder if we ever met if it would cause a black hole or if we would just cancel each other out. I hope she ends up better than me, better than what I’ve made of this life.  
The old bullet scars are aching again, a sure sign of trouble brewing. Sometimes I felt like I was supposed to die all those years ago, bleeding out on that horrible pink carpet. I keep dreaming of fire, a terrible burning in my chest. The only thing that ever eased it was him. I’d teased Jo about her crush at the Roadhouse for years; there was no room in this life for things like that. Feelings are knives that you cut yourself with. Love is a cage that you build with your own hands and smile out from behind the bars.  
But part of me can’t help but hope that she finds it. In this life or the next.

THE BUNKER.  
“WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY!” Deans grasp on his self-control was obviously slipping. .  
“I can’t track them.” Cass sorrowfully whispered. .  
“I’m trying to find the locating spell that Bobby used to find Lilith but its going to take time Dean.”.  
“We don’t have time!” Dean spat, shoving the books he’d been going thru to the floor. .  
“I may be able to help with that.” Crowley slipped in. .  
“I didn’t know that you brought your wonder twin.” Sam cheekily stated to Cass. .  
“With our powers combined. Or some such nonsense. That spell won’t work anyway Samantha. You need a name for that.”.  
“We have a name.” Sam drily replied. Crowley looked around the room with a pained expression, dusting his impeccable black suit with a scowl..  
“Would it kill you to do some housekeeping around here? Really Moose, I take better care of Hell than you do your flophouse. And what you have is a non de plume, an otherwise known as." Crowley said.  
“What are you even doing here?” Sam sassed. Dean crossed the room to square up with Crowley. .  
“Explain.” Dean’s tone brooked no argument.  
“Always a charmer Dean.” Crowley smirked, “You don’t have his true name. These creatures can only be summoned or sought by their true name. It’s a closely guarded secret even among their own kind.”.  
“So what help are you.”, Dean bit back.  
“You forget I grew up in their stomping grounds. They say someone’s whose dreamt of Gwynn ap Nudd will cry out his name in fear in their sleep. Right before they perish of course. I say we put lover boy down and dare the bastard to come get him. “Crowley said.  
“And how do you think we’re going to get Gwynn in Dean's head?” Sam asked archly..  
“By dreamwalking in mommy dearest’s head of course. He does have both of them, correct? If he’s laid the mojo on her then we can get to him.”, Crowley said.  
“Dreamroot? That’s what you’re suggesting?” Sam asked. “Why are you interested in this anyway?”  
“What can I say? The plonker’s gotten on my bad side already. Bad manners for a visitor.” Crowley said.  
“Good enough for me.” Dean rationalized, looking at Sam.  
“Miss me lover?” Crowley crowed to Castiel, whose face had taken on a much more exasperated angle.  
“Do you actually have any of this dreamroot on you? Or the concurring ingredients to make it work?” Cass replied arching a brow. “Or is this just more talking which you seem so fond of?”  
“I brought the nightmare juice. I was hoping you would have the means to make it specific to the mother of flannel.” Crowley said.  
“What if she’s not asleep?” Sam asked.  
“Well bully for you I brought something with me to tie into the spell to knock her out. Its best with a whiskey chaser.”  
“Because dream root tea isn’t bad enough.” Dean complained.  
“Well do you want your girl back or do you want to go on a girl drink binge complete with umbrellas?” Crowley spit, his voice rising in irritation.  
“Lets just get this done.” Dean said with finality. Sam got up to prepare the dreamroot which he took from Crowley begrudgingly. Cass went to Mary’s room to see if she left anything they could add to the potion. When Dean and Crowley were alone, Crowley hesitated and finally spoke, “Are you sure you want to bring her back? I mean Mommy I get , we all have our crosses to bear there…”  
“Watch it.” Dean growled.  
“But there are plenty of other fish in the sea. This one comes with baggage. She’s more of the pufferfish sort.” Crowley added.  
“If there’s a fat joke in there so help me.” Dean grit out.  
“No idiot, they eat pufferfish, but eat the wrong part and you end up dead.” Crowley growled out.  
“Been dead, didn't stick.” Dean deadpanned.  
“Your funeral. I'll sing Danny Boy, there will be tears all around.” Crowley said.  
“Good talk.” Dean cut Crowley off as Sam and Cass returned.  


OUTSIDE OF TOPEKA  
Gwynn looked at me, the depth of his madness blazing out from his eyes. Mary had gone vacant, standing listlessly behind him, still holding the gun.  
“I would have given you anything.” His voice was deceptively soft. “I would’ve burnt down worlds at your command. And you scorn me.”  
I just stared back at him, unmoving. The lack of response only infuriated him more. The walls around us grew dim in this abandoned building in the woods, his fury almost reshaping reality.  
“You loved me once. I waited for the wheel to turn again. I waited for you to choose me. You always go back to them. Lesser things. I gave you back your brother. I gave you a new life, not as a slave to the court but as a rider of the Hunt itself. I made you my equal and you forced me to put you in chains. I wanted to give you everything. I wanted to make you like me. That’s why I took you to the Summer court; to drink from the cauldron, to make you Fae, to be remade. I knew you would offer the Hunt, I knew it was what the Queen desired. And you wasted your boon with her to leave!" The last sentence was punctuated by the permafrost of Gwynn's emotions swelling. My eyelashes froze open and my skin marbled against the cold. I blinked my eyes against the onslaught, small icicles sloughing off, the temperature change too radical for even me to withstand without reacting.  
Up until this point Gwynn had shielded me from the full weight of his presence. He had, without me knowing, been appearing to me as more human than he was. That illusion dropped now and I felt him there like a finger on my eye. It beat at me like birds escaping from an attic and I understood in full what the legends meant. I wiped my eyes and my hands came away with red streaked tears. He was close now, closer than I thought, and he tore the front of my shirt, unveiling his mark. His face went murderous when he saw the progress of the fading. He trailed a finger against my skin that I cringed against, even after all this time.  
“How are you doing this?” He whispered, caught between furious and curious.  
"You'll never have me." I ground out.  
"I've already had you. In every way." Gwynn said. His hand snaked up to my breast and I batted his hand away.  
"Maybe the pure loathing I feel for you is killing it. It’s the little things really that keep you going.” I said, looking at him scornfully.  
Gwynn picked me up off my feet, his hands vice grips on my shoulders and I felt my collar bone shift uncomfortably beneath the skin. A small part of me hoped this was it, that I’d pushed him too far and he’d finally kill me and let me die. It felt like the end of something, like sitting in a movie watching the credits roll. 

“I left you a present on my way here. Did you find it? You always liked poetry” Gwynn remarked.  
I gritted my teeth against the pain he was causing, a gasp escaping when he tightened them further, there was a low crunching sound of my bones grinding together.  
“Very romantic.” I said thru my teeth, the pain from his hold locking my jaw. I dangled there, unable to move from his crushing grip, wanting to kick him but knowing that it would just make things worse. I didn't know if I craved that or still feared it. I knew with sudden clarity that if Gwynn killed me, it would be permanent. There'd be no more coming back to a broken body knitting itself together against nature. My face changed with...relief? I could do this, I could cross that last unknown into the dark and it would be over. Gwynn saw the change on my face and somehow seemed to know what I was thinking. He started to babble, changing tactics as I struggled against him.  
“I’ll make you something he’ll hunt. If you won't have me I’ll turn him against you; then I’ll kill him a thousand ways and bring you back just to see it. I rushed it that first time and I had to kill a thousand stand ins just to cool my fury at the wasted opportunity. You can spare him that. Give up and we’ll leave this paltry world behind. Give in and I’ll let him live.”  
“Nah.” Abruptly I was dumped to the ground as he spun away from me. The temperature dropped further, Gwynn's true nature revealing itself.  
“How do you think he’ll feel when I take her?” He ran his hands down Mary’s arms and reached up to cup her face, a thin layer of frost forming against her skin. ”She’s strong, like you. She fights back against the compulsion. I could break her first and send her as a present. “ Gwynn said.  
I kept my mouth shut, as much as I didn’t want to give in, I didn’t want the long lost matriarch to take my place on the chopping block either. Gwynn saw my indecision and leapt on it.  
“We’ve been here before. He traded you once. He sold out even his closet friends for what he wanted.”  
THE END- CAMP CHITAQUA  
“You know, it’s a shame you never participated in the orgies. You only ever had eyes for our fearless leader.” Cass was flirting with me again, running his finger down my arm.  
“Cass, really?” I laughed. I could never take him seriously.  
”I knew the first time I saw you that you were different.”  
“You knew I didn’t belong in this universe Casanova.”  
“Your soul; it blazes when he’s here. When he looks at you. Even after he’s been looking elsewhere. “  
“I know about Risa Cass.” I said quietly. “You don’t have to rub it the fuck in.”  
“It’s…unnatural…Considering what you are to him. “  
“We never made any promises Cass. It’s the end of the world. If Dean wants to blow thru the remaining female population, well, fuck it.”  
“You’re bound. In a different world that would’ve meant something.”  
“Like you mean something to the endless hippie skank parade you have on a rotating schedule thru your cabin? It’s last call on everything Cass, nothings sacred.” I nastily cut in.  
“It is until you act like it’s not.” He softly rebutted, surprising me with a smooth kiss that shook me with its gentleness. One hand rose to my face and the other stroked my collarbone worshipfully. He pulled away and the wild devil may care Cass I’d grown to know faded back. This was something else, something tender and old, the weight of knowledge showing in his eyes.  
“I’d mend this broken world for you if I could. If I thought it could change your fate. If I was half the man I used to be he’d have a hell of a fight on his hands.”  
“Cass...” I touched his face and saw him with some regret. “I love you like my brother. I think it would’ve been easier for both of us if that had been different.”  
“Am I interrupting this chick flick moment?” Dean said from behind me. His tone hadn’t changed at all even though somehow I knew he’d heard enough.  
“Not at all.” I said woodenly.  
“Good because I have a mission for you. It’s about the Colt.”  
“Always happy to help.” I replied, stepping away from Cass.  
“I’ll see you when you get back. We’ll polish off the rest of the scotch in celebration.” Cass said, looking at me in such a way that I knew the conversation wasn’t over.  
TOPEKA  
“I can see in your eyes you’re thinking about the angel. The one your lover fed into the trap. You really think this time is going to be different?” Gwynn taunted.  
“That wasn’t him!” I screamed back. That wound was still raw. When I saw Cass in this universe it had hurt me to look at him. I knew it wasn’t the same Cass I'd befriended and fought back to back with, but seeing his face was hard.  
“A mirror. That’s what he is. Their souls are the same, linked along the lines that tie us all. He is who he was. You are who you were. All outcomes are stagnant, repeating endlessly in a spiraling pattern that you still can’t see. ” Gwynn said.  
“That’s what you never understood. We grow and change and die. The only thing that remains the same is you. You’re stuck in this pattern, this disease of wanting me to be something I probably never was. I WILL NEVER WANT YOU.” I said with finality.

His eyes blazed out at me, he was fucking pissed and aroused at my defiance, he thrust his hands against the mark, seeming to borrow into my very skin, trying to weave its tattered edges together. I clawed at his hands, but the pain was excruciating, it blinded everything else and brought me to my knees. I could feel it trying to mend, cold fire strings coming together and breaking. I was shrieking, it was like freezing to death and being cooked alive all at once. I was getting spots along the edges of my vision, everything tunneling and I tried to shake it off drunkenly. It took me a minute to even realize that Gwynn was screaming too. When I could finally lift my head I saw that Gwynn’s hands were on fire, an unnatural green flame that he was trying to unsuccessfully beat out. Then there was darkness.


	14. All Nightmare Long

THE BUNKER  
“Ok let’s get this show on the road.” Dean was resolute.  
Sam handed him the mug with the dream root while Crowley chanted over it.  
“Ok Tonto, is this shit ready to go?” Dean asked.  
Crowley finished his chant and sprinkled some powder into the drink.  
“Now princess.” Crowley sarcastically replied.  
Dean chugged the contents his face stretching into a grimace. Before he could set the mug down he was out. Sam caught him as he fell, his gaze drawn up to Crowley and Castiel worriedly.  
Dean looked around him and he was in a dated house, one he recognized. His childhood home looked exactly like the one he’d seen in heaven with Sam. There was even a tiny version of himself eating breakfast in the kitchen.  
“Moooommm can I have more bacon?”  
“Of course Sweety.” Mary scooped more from the pan onto his plate while John entered in behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle.  
“I hope you’re saving some of that for me.” John huskily spoke into her neck.  
“Are you sure you’re going to have time? You have a shift this morning don’t you?” Mary icily replied moving out of Johns grip.  
“You’re still mad.” John said levelly.  
“Of course I’m still mad. I can’t go on a trip to see friends without you getting caveman on me.”  
“I just think it’s strange that I’ve never heard you talk about these friends before now. And you came back with bruises! What was I supposed to think?”  
“You were supposed to trust me John.”

“Mom?” Dean spoke up at last, confused.  
Mary spun to the right to face Dean; a look of shock coming over her face. John kept going with the conversation like nothing had interrupted them. He began to get more and more irate during the course of it but it was like hearing a song without the verses; his mother had stopped replying giving him only half of the conversation. It culminated with an aggravated John storming out of the house, slamming the door behind him.  
“You were out hunting, weren’t you?” Dean asked knowingly.  
“What are you doing here?” Mary was incredulous, looking from young Dean to adult Dean furiously.  
“Yeah total Biff moment I know.” Dean joked.  
Mary looked confused prompting Dean to try to explain the movie.  
He gave up quickly, stating, “We’ll watch it and catch you up.”  
He looked around again realizing that the scenery had changed; the sunny kitchen had somehow morphed into twilight in a wooded area. . He could see Samuel Campbell with his arm wrapped around a young girl, no more than 10. He whirled around looking for Mary until he realized from overhearing snatches of the conversation that she was the girl. 

“Alright Mary we talked about this. It’s time. I need you to be a big girl now.” With that Samuel walked away briskly, disappearing into the trees. Mary clutched a machete tightly, her knuckles white with the effort. She wavered slightly when she noticed that the sun had already sunk and the darkness was looming. She walked cautiously, trying to be silent and failing. Dean followed her helplessly, unable to interact. When the vampire broke thru the underbrush Mary froze, enabling the vampire to catch her and throw her back. She landed hard and when he came at her she swung the machete up in time to catch him in the stomach. Blood dripped down her arm from the wound, working its way down the blade. The vampire laughed then, a chilling sound. Mary ripped the machete free, stunning him and started to hack at his neck. She took off fingers as he tried to deflect the blows but she lacked the strength to take the head completely. The vampire clawed at her mercilessly trying to get her to relent. Finally she buried the blade in his neck and used it to drive him to the ground, using her foot for the needed pressure to finally end him. Samuel steeped out from behind the cover of forest, his face a mask. He took in the whole scene, finally his gaze lingering on his daughter and noted the blood starting to inch down her arms from multiple cuts and her chest heaving in exhaustion and the final dregs of furious adrenaline.  
“Sloppy.”  
Dean looked at Samuel with surprise and disgust. Mary had been very lucky to succeed at all as small as she was. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled mostly for his own benefit. 

Samuel’s face was turned toward him and Dean was wholly focused on it, wishing he could kill him all over again. Well Sam did the first time but Dean’s not sweating the details. When he finally breaks eye contact Dean realizes that they are now where Mary made her deal and watches her go thru with it a second time which was more painful than he thought. He watches the events unfold, lingering past when he got zapped out by Cass. John wakes from his own death and Mary tries to explain but nothing makes sense to John. It leads to a terrible argument where John leaves Mary alone with Samuel to go get help. Mary cries over the broken body of her father, the sounds she makes are terrible and ugly and too real for Dean. He feels some tears escaping his own eyes at having to see what his mother had endured.  
“Mom.” Dean put his hand on Mary’s shoulder, the tears still evident on his face.  
“I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save either of them.” Mary cried.  
“I know.” Dean wrapped her in his arms.  
“What are you doing here? How are you here?” Mary asked after she’d composed herself.  
“Dreamroot. I’m taking a walk down your memory lane with you. I’m trying to get to Gwynn. He took both of you. He has you under some kind of compulsion.”  
Mary reached up and touched her lips slightly. “ He kissed me and all I could think about was pleasing him. It was sick…a kind of a rape.” Mary spit after the last statement, disgust evident on her face.  
“Well I’m hoping to get him to bite here. You feel him floating around somewhere?”  
Mary looked around and noticed that the street beneath her had disappeared. Soft grass that felt like down touched her hands as she ran them along the surface of it. Everything was purple and blue and the world around her whispered like it was asleep. Dean was also surprised, nothing looked right here, the textures and colors didn’t belong.  
“This one of yours?” He asked Mary softly.  
“Never seen it before.” She whispered back. 

They walked together thru the alien landscape until they came to a gleaming white building. Dean felt drawn to it and speed up without realizing it. They proceeded inside where there were nightmarish sounds coming from the interior bays which were thankfully shielded from view. There was one open bay ahead and Dean hurried to it thru the long corridor. What they saw inside turned Deans stomach. There you were chained to the wall, your fingers bloody with nails missing from clawing at the chains which were painted in gore. Surrounded in filth and the smell of sex and sick, you looked as if you'd gone mad. Gwynn, almost perversely gentle, put his hands on you and burned his mark into your chest while chanting an incantation. The sound you made was inhuman, the scream hitting decibels that were meant to shatter eardrums.  
“Jesus.” Mary whispered. “We’re in her nightmare.”  
At the sound of her voice Gwyn abruptly stood up. All at once he was upright, the motion in between sitting and standing not visible.  
“What are you doing here!” Gwynn roared.  
The scene froze around him and Dean realized they weren’t in your nightmare; they were in Gwynn’s dream. The romantic lighting which seemed all wrong made sense now.  
“This is sick, you know that right?” Dean goaded.  
Gwynn lunged at Dean, his face twisted in rage. The second he made contact flames bloomed along his arms causing Gwynn to stare at them in disbelief. He stared hard at Dean and grabbed him again, “I’ll take you with me.” Amidst Mary’s protests and beating arms Dean felt the fire take him. He felt his death, the terrible burning pain causing him to scream out. 

Dean woke with words coming out of his mouth that he didn’t understand, they felt ripped from him. It was less talking and more like releasing something that never belonged there in the first place. The concerned faces of Sam, Cass, and Crowley surrounded him.  
“I hope you got that.” Dean said wearily.  
“Put a recorder on just in case.” Sam smirked.


	15. Carpe Diem Baby

I must have passed out after seeing Gwynn light up like a Christmas tree because my face was plastered to the dirty ground. I spit out the dust and god knows what else that had collected in my mouth and looked around the room. Mary was lying about 10 feet away, out cold by the looks of it and Gwynn was nowhere to be found. It was too optimistic to assume that he was dead. My whole body hurt, I felt like a walking bruise at this point and it was hard to breathe as if some ribs were broken. I crawled over to Mary and flipped her on her back, waking her up. She came to violently, brandishing a knife to my throat with a wild look in her eye.  
“Easy Killer.” I said evenly, trying to keep her calm.  
“Where is he?” She gritted.  
“No idea. But he’s gotta be in bad shape.”  
“The fire.” She said, pulling the knife away and pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“Yeah, the compulsion gives you a hell of a migraine. And yeah, off licking his wounds somewhere else hopefully.”  
“So let’s get out of here.”  
“Do you remember if he set a trap?”  
“Nothings super clear at this point.”  
“Well let’s assume he did because those can be pretty nasty. Turn you inside out or seal up your face bad.”  
“How do we get out?”  
“We don’t.”  
“Meaning?”  
“Someone has to come in to break it, we can’t force our way out.”  
“Won’t they get stuck?”  
“Nope, entering isn’t the same as leaving.”  
“So were just going to sit here and wait for him to come back or for someone to wander in when we are in the middle of nowhere?”  
“Pretty much. You wanna test the boundaries, go ahead. I’ve played that game already and I’m not keen to do it again. “  
Mary got up and brushed herself off and started walking around with her arms out testing the air. The hair on her arms started to stand up when she got within 5 feet of the rolling doors and when she pressed further cuts started appearing on her hands and arms rapidly. She snatched her hands back and retreated a few steps instinctively.  
“Its like trying to push thru broken glass.” Mary said in awe.  
“That’s a popular one. It’ll just get worse the harder you fight it.”  
“You’ve seen this before?”  
“Yup. Enough to know it’ll cut you to ribbons before you touch that door. Someone has to disrupt the pattern from the outside.”  
“Ok so let’s call the boys and fill them in.”  
I laughed at her statement. When she pulled out her phone while looking at me sternly and tried to dial nothing happened.  
“No cell service in a displaced patch of ground in an alternate reality.”  
“Christ. What does that even mean?”  
“He’s picked up this slice of ground and moved in into an alternate reality. You can’t see it because we’re existing in both at the same time. That’s why the glass really cut you, it’s not an illusion, its real, it’s from a real place, one we wouldn’t survive.”  
“And if someone else walks into it?”  
“Well I’m hoping on the off chance if someone does, that they’ll break the circle and bring us fully back into this world. They won’t be able to see us unless they’ve been to Fairy. And that’s a pretty short list.”  
“Well lucky for you I’m on that list.” Dean appeared at the far end of the room opposite the door with Sam and Cass in tow.  
“Who are you talking to?” Sam asked. Dean looked at him in exasperation before he addressed me again.  
“Ok so how do we make you less imaginary? Sam’s dance card is already full on that. ”  
“Find a pattern, it’ll seem random like dropped rocks or trash or something.”  
“You realize we’re surrounded by trash right? It’s an abandoned building.”  
“I see something…it doesn’t belong here.” Cass said suddenly.  
“Tell him to move something? Kick it whatever!” I yelled excitedly.  
Cass reached down and picked up a rock that had no business being in Kansas, a piece of marble perfect and white. When he did I felt the floor fall out from under me, like being in a crashing elevator. And then we were free.

Mary rushed forward to embrace Sam, who was closest to her and Dean gathered me in his arms and kissed me desperately. When he was done I looked up at him in shock, PDA wasn’t really our thing.  
“I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But it wasn’t good.”  
“Well…”Sam began awkwardly.  
“I didn’t think you were the ‘Hey let’s make out in front of everyone’ kind of guy.” I challenged Dean  
“Well if were doing it we need to be able to talk about it. It is the adult thing.” Dean looked at Sam like they were sharing a private joke. “Plus Carpe Diem, fuck it we just won. A little celebration is in order.”  
I laughed at that, feeling lighter already.  
“Burgers and beers next then.” I said smiling.  
“I don’t want to spoil the mood here, but where is the bad guy we were planning on killing dead?” Sam interjected.  
“No idea.” Mary and I said in tandem.  
“But I would rather not be here when he gets back.” I added hurriedly. Dean tried to help me, but I wasn’t hurt that bad and I needed to walk out of there on my own steam. He grunted in understanding but hovered. I got back into the Chevelle, happy to see her again whole. Mary got in next to me which caused me to quirk an eyebrow at her.  
“No offense but that last time we took a ride together I didn’t enjoy the outcome.” I said without malice.  
“I asked them to let us ride out together. There are things that need saying.” Cass stood at my door as well, looking at me imploringly.  
“Dean asked me to ride with you, as a precaution. He said since you have banished them for ‘girl time’ you could humor him.” I got out and let him climb in the back with a sigh. Full house it is. I peeled out of there, happy to be putting miles between me and that place. The first few were quiet, both Cass and Mary content to look out the windows. Mary ran her fingers along the dash, looking around at the inside of the car.  
“These are great cars. I remember when they came out. Made out with Rick Galusha in the backseat of one at Homecoming.” She smiled at the memory. Cass looked uncomfortable at this revelation and tried staring harder out the window.  
I grinned back at her, “I used to ride around in this one with my Dad and my brother. Little different than yours but still… good memory.”  
“Cars like this are dependable. They’ve got a lot of miles but they run true. You take care of them, they take care of you.” She looked at me then and I realized we weren’t just talking about the car anymore.

Mary looked at me then and I saw the weight of all the missed years, the uncertainty of her position here. I nodded at her and a moment if understanding passed between us without words. It was silent again for a moment and I went to turn on some music.  
“I’m sorry.” Mary said quietly.  
“You didn’t know what you were doing.” I said firmly.  
“No, I’m sorry about the things I said before the whole kidnapping thing. That wasn’t me either. Well part of it maybe, but still he’d gotten to me and twisted it. And I’m sorry for that.”  
“Water under the bridge.” I replied solemnly.


	16. The memory remains

I felt locked down at the bunker, no one was letting me or Mary out of their sights. No cases, no leaving, no life. We were both chafing under the close quarters and heavy handedness of the guys. I even smoked in the garage, outside being deemed too “risky”. I was crushing out a cigarette when Mary joined me, plopping down on the half wall next to me.  
“You wanna give me one of those?” She asked.  
I quirked an eyebrow at her but handed her one. She eyed the pitcher I’d made up, might as well drink margaritas if you’re gonna be stuck somewhere.  
“You’ll have to get your own cup.” I laughed. She pulled a solo cup out which meant she knew and came prepared.  
“I feel like we should be smoking in the bathroom.” I joked, pouring her drink. Dean already gave me a bunch of shit for smoking, it slows you down, cuts your endurance blah blah blah. I can’t imagine what he would say now.  
“Well I’m their mother not the other way around.” She cracked a smile.  
“Yeah they keep us on lockdown much longer and we’ll be singing Johnny Cash songs and rattling cups along the doors.” I joked.  
“I need to be out there, hunting, doing something.” Mary exclaimed.  
“Preach.”  
The next few hours were a blur of complaining and plotting our escape. Albeit drunkenly at that point.  
“I read your journals.” Mary interjected suddenly. Well I guess fun time was over.  
“Ok.”I said resigned.  
“We saw something in there…and I wanted to know. Sam helped me when I started asking questions. And let’s be honest there’s not a lot to do in here.” She looked at me searchingly.  
“So spit it out.”  
“That was a lot to take in.”  
“Yeah it was a lot to live. But it’s over.”  
“Is it?”  
“Yup.”  
“You can’t bury that forever.”  
“Sure I can. Margaritas help.”  
“But…”  
“There’s no but. What happened, happened. I’m not crying over spilt milk.”  
“But doesn’t that make you want to…”  
“Look I’ve tried stabbing him, shooting him, all manner of nasty things, nothing works. Hell of a cathartic exercise tho. But I understand if that makes you think, fuck I don’t know, whatever about me. I’m not clean… one day I’ll pay for all the terrible things I’ve caused.”  
“I think you’re strong, and I think the rest is all bullshit.” Mary tersely replied. “I think that you survived the best way you knew how and anybody who did get hurt, that’s not on you.”  
“So you and Dean, this is technically your second go around?”  
I flushed red widening my eyes at her.  
“Sam gossips like an old woman.” She laughed.  
“Well I’m pretty sure that it’s over, we haven’t…since I got back. “  
“Men.” Mary huffed.  
I woke up in my bed with a roaring headache. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten back here but I was pretty happy that I’d thought to not pass out on hard concrete. My hair was sticking up in every direction and I smelled like the aftermath of Cinco De Mayo. I stumbled out in search of coffee slamming right into Dean in the process.  
“Watch out.” I hissed clutching my head.  
“Easy Tiger. Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”  
“There is no good side of the bed today.”  
“There would’ve been if you stayed with me.” Dean whispered, still holding my arm where he’d tried to steady me.  
“No sexual innuendo before coffee Lothario.” I groped my way along the wall trying to reach the kitchen.  
“Where are you not going?” Dean said, scooping me up over his shoulder. I protested with a shriek and started flailing around until I realized that made the room spin in a stomach lurching way. ”Kitchens the other way dummy.”  
“Put. Me. Down.” I gritted out forcefully. Deans answer was a playful slap to my ass.  
“All in good time. Plus I thought you’d appreciate the express considering you were walking the wrong way.”  
He set me on my feet jarringly and I had to grab the sides of the kitchen counter for support. Right next to the coffee. I’d never tell him but I was grateful for the lift. Surprisingly being picked up abruptly hadn't set off any defense mechanisms, which surprised me. I mulled over it as I drank my coffee, usually I avoided being touched, slipping away from small bouts of affection from those around me. Mary was sitting across the table from me, eyeing me up like she knew something. 

"You let him touch you." A small smile played across Mary's face.  
"Well Good Morning to you too." I replied tiredly. "And what Yoda wisdom are you offering at this ungodly time of day?"'  
"Even with me last night when you were wasted you avoided physical contact. You were very careful about it, nothing overt, but you avoided all the usual things. Then Dean can come in here and just swept you off your feet."  
"It wasn't like that...he was just getting on my nerves."  
"You let him, you could've stopped that a thousand different ways. Something to think about." 

August 2009  
Southern Illinois  
I went back home for the annual picnic because Bobby was out and let face it, I don't have any other friends. I usually avoided home, it wasn't really home anymore, just somewhere I came from and never really could go back to. But I figured that for a weekend I could pretend. I didn't think anyone would recognize me anymore, my family was long gone and I'd become a ghost. My family was already an urban legend in the county. They said the old business was haunted, its abandoned windows and parking lot in the middle of town was like a memorial. I checked out the business first, setting up shop inside what used to be a thriving office where my earliest memories were made. No emf, no activity at all. Just stories then. I walked up to my old grade school and had a chicken dinner, sitting at that table where I'd always sat with my grandparents, picking at the plastic table cover instead of the food. My name was still on the wall for a volleyball championship we'd won in grade school. I wonder if this was the only tangible evidence that I'd ever existed. After I threw away my mostly still full plate I walked around the Picnic, looking at the bingo booths like Id still see my Grandmother waving at me flush with victory. I stopped at the beer tent for a drink and wandered over to the music tent where the sound of the harmonica reminded me so much of my Grandfather I felt an unwilling tear well up.  
"Jerry played the best harmonica."

My head whirled around at the voice

“Hello Love.” Crowley said indifferently. “Your old stomping grounds.”  
“There’s no one left here for you to threaten me with. “  
“I knew him… your grandfather. Used to play chess with the old bastard. Never could win.”  
“What did you do to him…”  
“Nothing.” He held his hands in the air in a mock surrender.  
I growled at him, reaching back for knife.”  
“No need to get nasty with all these nice people about. “ He took me by the hand causing me to grit my teeth in frustration.  
“I was always curious about this place. Unremarkable at first glance, just a spit of land in the middle of corn with nothing to recommend it. So, why, I ask myself, has it had so much demon activity? The sheer lack maybe? The isolation? Is this much corn good for the demon complexion?”  
“You want a corn facial?” I replied sassily.  
“The only common factor was you. Two demon encounters in such a short time? Who’s hit list are you on? Even the Winchesters only have one tale of woe.”  
“What do you mean?” I said quietly.  
“You know what I mean. Visited by a Prince of Hell and lived to tell the tale. Seen your cousin Mike around lately?”  
I immediately recoiled, ripping my hand out of his grip. Sweat started pouring from my skin in nauseous waves.  
“I see you do remember. Had a…friend with a similar problem once. She made a deal. Of course her problem was human.”  
“Mike isn’t human?”  
“Hasn’t been since he was fourteen. He still looks the same if you’re wanting to rekindle the old flame.”  
“I would rather die.” I was worried I may actually throw up at this point; my vision was darkening along the edges from the effort and the straight panic I was experiencing.  
“Thought as much.”  
“Why are you telling me this?”  
“There’s something about you. Something that reaches out to the darkness… beckoning. I feel it even now. What are you?”  
“I’m human.”  
“Yes, that much I can sense for myself. But you’re not like all the rest…are you.”  
“Fuck you.” I gritted out, eyes narrowing into slits.  
“Sensitive about our first time aren’t we?” Crowley smiled at me terribly.  
“I was eight you fucking psychopath!”  
“Asmodeus is known for lust my dear. Especially the twisted kind. I wouldn’t linger here if you don’t want him to get your scent again. “  
“So now you want to be helpful?”  
“I told you, Jerry was good at chess. Even won a bet we’d made where I’d look out for you. This was after the target practice incident of course. “

THE BUNKER-  
Mary read the last entry with tears welling up. She snapped the journal shut as Sam walked in with a cup of coffee.  
Sam quirked an eyebrow at her, “Interesting reading?”  
“Upsetting is more like it.”  
“Yeah, it feels wrong to read these.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
“I wonder how much of this history they actually share? Just the dream parts? Or everything?”  
“Toss up. Anything in particular? Why don’t you ask her?”  
“Some things are hard to ask about Sam.”  
“Well she’s in good company then. Half of our lives seem that way too.”  
“What are we talking about?” Dean interrupted.  
“Just discussing your new girlfriend.” Sam replied cheekily.  
“She’s not my…Shut up Sam.”  
Mary looked at Dean, thinking about whether or not she should say something to him and decided to keep it to herself. Some secrets weren’t hers to tell.  
“A little light reading I see.” Dean remarked to Mary indicating the journal still in her hands.  
“Yeah…I was trying to see if there was anything we missed that would be helpful with the case. “  
“So…? “ Dean queried.  
“How many of these have you read?” Mary asked.  
“I quit after things got a little too close to home. Besides that seems too much like homework which was always Sam’s thing.” Dean joked

Mary got up announcing she needed some air and headed back toward the kitchen. I was already pouring my third cup of coffee when she materialized behind me making me jump and viciously karate chop the air. Somewhat ungracefully. Coffee went flying in all directions.  
She laughed, “Its nice to know you aren’t always switched on.”  
“Hey that was a sick move.”  
“Im sure.”  
I bent down to start wiping up the mess I’d made all over the floor and the edges of the counter when Mary launched into a pointed conversation.  
“Sam and Dean told me about your family. I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah well I’m hoping that in my universe they’re still ok.”  
“And that’s enough?”  
“Not even close. But it’s better than nothing.”  
“You don’t have any other close family? Grandparents? Aunts and Uncles…cousins?” She asked the last in a softer tone of voice.  
“Everyone I tried reaching out to here either doesn’t know me or I don’t care to know them.”  
“What about Mike?” She asked, laying the journal softly on the counter right above my head. I froze, giving myself away but unable to help myself.  
“Who?” I tried to dumbly ask.  
“So that happened to you too then.” She said quietly. “I thought there weren’t any monsters in your world?”  
“Just the worst kind…people.” I replied deadly.  
“Makes a hell of an argument for fate.”  
“You know what? I’m done being stuck here like some helpless asshole. Let’s go out and kill something.”  
“I couldn’t agree more.”


	17. Mama Said

Mary and I rolled out right under the guys noses. I didn’t need their permission and I wasn’t going to wait around forever. I still had to live my life and it had been weeks. Mary had heard about a vamp nest down south so we took off to work the case. I left a voicemail on Dean’s phone, having turned it on silent before we left.  
“Dean… Look don’t be pissed but you couldn’t keep us there forever. We’ll be back in a week or two after we take care of some bloodsuckers. I’m sure I’ll be up for a lecture by then.”  
Mary texted Sam and Dean when we were well out of range, hours later. Their response was of course melodramatic. Dean’s name lit up the screen of my phone and I picked it up expecting the argument that was surely coming.  
“Nice voicemail. Turn around.”  
“Well what a nice surprise. How are things at Shawshank warden?”  
“Very funny Dufresne. Get your asses back here.”  
“Hey in the movie he gets to Mexico… so good luck with that.”  
“You know were trying to protect you.”  
“And I appreciate that. But you can’t bubble boy me forever.”  
“If Gywnn comes for you, you’ll be alone. Again.”  
“Fuck that guy. He’s not going to fucking stop me either. Sooner or later I’ve got to do something. I wasn’t planning on becoming a shut in. Go work a case. Relax. Kill something. See you in a week or two.” I hung up the phone knowing he’d be furious but laughing anyway. Mary smiled at me as she flipped thru her files, which were very well put together I might add. I think she’d wanted to drive herself but there was no way we’d have been able to get both cars out without the boys noticing. The Chevelle had been parked out front and we didn’t have to mess with the garage alarm. It seemed like she relaxed as she realized I also had a lead foot when it came to not driving towards my arch nemesis.

We drove out to New Bern NC in a companionable silence, occasionally singing along to the radio- we both rocked Radar Love, who knew? The Palace Hotel was slightly less opulent than its name, another run down single serving home past its prime but they took cash and weren’t too interested. The Croatan National Forest was home to all sorts of wrong, the South hold on to its legends and monsters more readily than anywhere else. It was smack dab in the middle of that marshy stretch of woods that we needed to go per the intel Mary had. People disappeared there all the time. There was lore about voodoo and monsters having their own place lost in the pines. People called it Freedomtown. I was familiar with it because I’d lived in New Bern before, filling Mary in on the local legends, surprising her.  
“Seems odd that we picked up a case somewhere you used to live.”  
“Tell me about it. Although other me didn’t make it here so there’s that.”  
“So, the timeline ended up different in some parts.”  
“Everything after about 18-19 it looks like.”  
“Why then?”  
“No idea. Maybe the possession? My real brother never succeeded in murdering us either.”  
“Yeah but wouldn’t the time line split then? Why before?”  
“Hey I’m not exactly an expert here, just making it up as I go along. Best I can figure there’s a bunch of universes all layered up, each one is where we’d made slightly different choices. Change one thing, change everything.“  
“So you’re saying that somewhere out there I could have a totally different life?”  
“Some things are fixed. That much I understand. There are some moments you can’t avoid..” I looked at her pointedly.

"Speaking of unavoidable... Ive been working with the Men of Letters..."  


"What."  
"The only reason I bring it up is because one of them is here and I wasn't sure of an explanation that you would accept."

She called in Ketch, which I was not exactly grateful for. The guy creeped me out, he had the stare of someone on the fringe. I felt like he saw through me to all the terrible shit that churned inside. No one is ever that calm without paying the price. Mary gave me the ‘world without monsters’ tagline with Ketch watching me with that quiet menacing look. I made myself appear open to it, wanting off his radar, when in reality my answer was a resounding Fuck No. The Men of Letters already had a black mark in my book, and anyone who gave Ketch free reign was not someone I wanted to follow. If there was anything I’d learned in my seemingly long life, it was that blind trust and obedience was not really my thing. Ketch may have set off my internal crazy alarm but he was an admirable hunter. We hit a vampire nest and made short work of it partially thanks to his equipment and partially thanks to our combined bloodlust. There’s certain clarity to hunting, the world slows down and there’s only the moment where your heartbeat is thundering out with your sweaty hands clamping around the machete. That perfect arc of your swing and the fact that they’re dead and not you. Everything else except for the will to survive is tamped down, the past is dead, those extra ten pounds are dead; anything that isn’t essential is dead and gone, at least for a while. “I do hope you consider our offer.” Ketch reached out his hand for me to shake. “Absolutely.” I replied, silently adding ‘fucking not’ to the end of that statement. His hand squeezed mine harder, almost as if he was reading my mind and we had a moment where I thought we were going to have a who can squeeze harder war when he abruptly dropped my hand. Mary warily watched our interaction, arms folded. When Ketch stepped back they exchanged a layered look that I felt awkward catching. As he made his way around me to Mary he slid in close, paused, and in a low intimate tone deadpanned, “You’re a killer, make no mistake. And those of us of that ilk always are better off when someone else is our moral compass.” I gritted my teeth against the words, the truth ringing bitter in the failing light.


	18. Goin' Thru the Motions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added more to the last chapter that you need to read before this or you'll be confused, also made editing changes to that and previous chapters

The drive back to the bunker seemed both long and short. Our time with Ketch and his parting words shook me a little, and I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the lecture that I knew was coming. Mary was also silent, her face turned away gazing out into the night for most of the trip. I pushed thru the night and most of the next day without stopping, a sudden urgency taking hold of me. I was running on coffee and cigarettes and sheer will by the end, white knuckling the wheel. Mary had reached out to the boys on our way back and they were waiting at the entrance when we got to the bunker. My hands were shaking as I retrieved my bag, and Dean’s eyebrow went up slightly. Sam started on responsibility and being smart, his tone kinder than I anticipated as he embraced his mother, and I mostly zoned him out. Dean just sighed and hauled me downstairs by the arm, dug out some aspirin and just stared. As I took it he began, “You look like death warmed over.”  
“Eighteen hours straight will do that to you Hoss..”  
“You’re pushing too hard. You’re using it as a crutch for dealing with your shit.”  
“Takes one to know one.”  
He rubbed his mouth with his hand and even though I was damn near falling asleep walking it still made my insides do a slow flip. I stared back at him, trying to blink away the sleep that was closing in.  
“You're right. I walked that same road. I tried burying it in booze and women and killing until I was drowning in it. Didn’t work for me either. Sooner or later it comes burning up to the surface, and hunting with that kind of edge makes you reckless.”  
“Can we not do this right now? I’m dead on my feet.” The admission ground out of me, I was about five more minutes away from passing out where I stood. I grabbed my bag off the floor and Dean jerked it away from me roughly. I followed him back to my room and watched him warily as he placed it close to the bed. He turned toward me and hesitatingly sat on the bed, gesturing for me to sit beside him. I tersely complied and sat there rigidly waiting for another lecture when he began to knead my shoulders, melting my resistance. I slowly relaxed back, kicking off my shoes and struggling with my socks which made him laugh lowly. As I faded out I heard him say, “I’m here. Whenever you’re ready I’m here.”

Waking up surrounded by another person is a jarring experience when you’ve spent the last years on the run from a psychopath. I immediately panicked when I began to come to, clawing my way out of the sheets and launching myself from the bed. My breath was chain sawing out of my chest and fear had locked up my vocal cords. My limbs shook with both terror and loathing, as I started to realize where I was and who I was with I added shame to that pile. Dean had sprung up, knife in hand scanning the room for an invisible threat. When his eyes finally landed on me I couldn’t meet his gaze. This was the reason I’d so eagerly agreed to sleep separately in the past. It had been years since I’d let anyone share a bed with me for fear of seeing this weak side, this chink in my armor. I felt raw and exposed, for all my claims of being able to deal with my past, I was still a hot mess when I first woke, that initial terror never really releasing its iron grip on me. I didn’t want to see the pity on Dean’s face; I knew then that whatever was tentatively beginning here was over. Nobody wanted to deal with this kind of bullshit. Dean knelt down and tentatively reached for my face, the first few times falling short. When he finally made contact he gently coaxed me to meet his gaze and what was there wasn’t pity. It was understanding. He looked away, his mouth working, trying to chew out the words I knew he’d had to claw up from a dark place of remembering.  
“When I first got back, the nightmares were terrible. The sweaty inches to the bathroom seemed like miles. It took a long time to accept that I was back, that I could ever be safe again.”  
You acknowledged this with a slow nod, not trusting your control and the eminent tears that might follow if you found your voice. He looked at you then, a searching gaze that worked its way inside you so deep you didn’t think you’d ever be able to hide anything from him. His fingers were slowly edging along your jaw, ghosting the line of it trying to ease your skittishness. A tear silently escaped despite my best efforts and he brushed at it with his thumb, dragging the rough edge along my cheek. The tenderness was my undoing, unleashing the flood of pent up emotion pushed down over and over as a way to keep my sanity. He gathered me up, sweeping me off the floor and onto the bed partially in his lap. I buried my head in the crook between his shoulder and neck as it poured out, the dam broken with nothing left to shore it up. Time stretched out immeasurably, as my emotions purged themselves, a wave crashing against Dean’s rock. After I was back in control, I was embarrassed, studying the scars on his neck to avoid making eye contact. Dean, stripped down to his shorts, was as marked as me, the constellation of his past written on skin. I traced a silver white line that faded into his hairline. We didn't speak then, and it was better that way. He silently helped me to my feet and lead me to the kitchen where he made coffee, handing me a cup, waiting. 

"I'm sorry." I said, my tone mechanical.  
"Don't be. What do you need?" Dean asked.  
"Nothing. Its just something that happens." I said.  
We sat across from each other, each studying the other. My eyes trailed his tattoos, the scars that dotted his skin, the wrinkles forming around his eyes.  
"This...this is killing you." Dean said.  
"Can't die. Tried." I said.  
"The mark is killing you slow, but whats up here," he pointed to his ruffled hair, "thats where you're really dying.".  
"Maybe. But I'm dealing. I mean I'm not a fucking pyscho mess right now, so I feel pretty ahead of the curve. Enduring the unendurable is kind of our thing. Another decade or so and I'll be right as rain.".  
"Will you?" Dean asked..  
"What do you care? You wanna be soulmates now Dean? We fuck a few times and you think, what?" I said..  
"Look I'm not saying I see a white picket fence here either. But you matter. And we will find a way to save you. You just have to not get yourself killed first." Dean said.  
. The coffee had gone cold. I stared down at it like a magic eight ball, hoping something would give me something definitive. But it was just coffee. And Dean was just another guy I'd turn into a memory.

"I wasn't supposed to live this long Dean." I said tiredly. He just looked at me, waiting for me to explain.   
"No one is supposed to live this long. I thing the human brain can only contain so much."  
"I know that time moves differently downstairs but..." Dean began.   
"I know, the timeline here makes this seem normal. But I've been at this a long time. I'm not aging Dean. I've been traveling for over a hundred years and I haven't gotten older. No matter what happens to me, I can't die. I just keep going. You know, until we went to Illinois and saw their graves, I couldn't remember my father's face anymore. I cant remember my first kiss or dogs name. The journals help, but there's been a lot of road between here and there. "  
"What are you saying?"  
"I'm saying I'm getting tired. I'm saying that maybe we should stop looking for a way to save me and start looking for a way to end me."  
Dean was already viciously shaking his head in denial,


End file.
